La Tortuga de Oro
by froyozensight
Summary: Arthur Kirkland never expected to be hired as a bartender by one of the owners of the prestigious La Tortuga de Oro, locale-NYC. He must now get used to a foreign country, bizarre coworkers, and an American waiter who can't seem to leave him alone...USUK
1. Arrival

Welcome readers to my first chaptered Hetalia fic "La Tortuga de Oro"! (Or "The Golden Turtle" if you're too lazy to pull up google translate in another tab.) This is gonna be mainly USUK, with a side helping of Spamano, PruCan, RusLat, and so much more! Actually, some pairings may develop/change as it goes. It's still a relatively new project of mine, so really, anything can happen.

Rating might go up for later chapters. Just a heads up.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, or the initial idea of Russia being a doorman. I borrowed that from Liete (a fantastic author whose work I love), but I don't think she'll mind. The plot is completely different from the story she has him a doorman for. However, I do take pride in knowing it was my idea to have Belgium and Netherlands work at the front desk together.

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Staring up at the building before him, Arthur Kirkland still wasn't able to believe that soon he would be able to call _La Tortuga de Oro_—home. The words depicting the name shimmered down at him as he stood just outside the taxi he had taken from the airport. He gazed in wonder up at the half hotel, half apartment complex, but all luxurious. Almost like a cliché, there was a red carpet sneaking underneath the glass doors that went further back into the lobby. The front of the building was glass up until about the sixth floor, the rest of the external walls consisting of marble and golden details.

It was still dumbfounding to know he was going to be working and living here now. The hotel-apartment complex was so fantastic that the Englishman was, needless to say, having a difficult time accepting the reality of his good luck. Because, who gets such a cushy job the moment upon graduating college?

"Bloody hell…" muttered Arthur, his green eyes wandering over the expanse of the building, a small grin etching its way over his face as he thought back again to the random e-mail he had received merely a week ago stating that he would be receiving a letter enclosed with plane tickets to New York. Sure, he could've refused the rather forceful job proposal, but his lease was about to end on his London flat and he didn't have anyone else clamoring to get him to work for them.

And that's how he ended up standing before the luxurious _La Tortuga de Oro_. He had to say, it lived up to the hype of the phenomenal reviews it had received all around the world.

Yeah, Arthur was still having trouble knowing he was capable of good luck when he was so used to the typical bad.

"I can be of help, da?" Arthur jumped at the cheery voice suddenly addressing him, and spun around to find a tall, platinum blonde haired man standing beside him.

"U-Um…I'm here to bartend…" Kirkland winced at how stupid and unprofessional that sounded. Though it's not like he went to college to be a bartender, but he sure as hell didn't want to discredit his amateur abilities before his first day. Especially when he was now stranded in a foreign country without enough money to get back to good ol'England.

"Oh! You are new worker Mr. Beilschmidt talk about! Nice to meet you!" The man smiled widely, but Arthur got the distinct feeling that running was a better idea than shaking the man's now outstretched hand. However, he wasn't British for nothing.

With as much confidence as he could muster, Arthur shook his hand and replied, "Ah, yes. I'm Arthur Kirkland."

"Ivan Braginski, I am doorman during day and sometimes bartender at night." Braginski had yet to let go of Arthur's hand, and the Brit was beginning to doubt his gentlemanly choice. "Would you like me to show you inside?"

"T-That's okay, I'm sure I'll manage. Besides, you're probably too busy…" The Brit decidedly ignored the blatant lack of people walking in or out of the doors. '_Of course the restaurant inside wouldn't be busy until nightfall_,' thought Arthur bitterly at his poor word choice. He really needed to think things through more…

"It is no problem. I find you Mr. Beilschmidt, da?" Having yet to let go of the Englishman's hand, Braginski pulled Arthur forcibly into the building, despite the sputtering he was doing about leaving his luggage in the taxi without paying his fare.

"Do not worry. I will get bellhop to fetch your belongings." Arthur was about to object (he didn't want his new coworkers thinking him lazy), but Ivan had already shouted, "Raivis!"

"C-C-Coming!" came a hesitant response and soon a short teenage boy came before them, his blonde hair only obscured by his little bellhop hat. He bowed and said, "R-Raivis Galante, at your service!"

"T-Thank you…" mumbled Kirkland when it seemed Braginski wasn't going to do anything but stare hungrily at the boy.

The Brit's words snapped the doorman out of his stare, and he said sweetly, "Raivis, please take Arthur's things to the room prepared for him. He needs to go see Mr. Beilschmidt now and can't do it himself."

The boy looked past Arthur and Ivan and saw the two small suitcases sitting forlornly at the curb, placed there by the taxi driver, who was standing there irritably tapping his foot. Raivis's eyes were still on the luggage when he wondered out loud, "Why didn't Mr. Ivan do it himself? They look light and it's not like he's doing anything…"

Arthur jumped at the weird 'kol' sound exiting the, what he was now presuming to be, Russian. His first thought was that Ivan was choking until he realized that it seemed to be more of a malicious laugh directed at Raivis along with a murderous stare.

"Eh? Raivis thinks that way? Then how about we take Arthur's luggage up together…"

"A-Ah! M-Mr. Ivan! I-I didn't mean to o-offend!"

Easily now, Arthur detached himself from Braginski, who had begun making the disturbing chuckling-esque noise again as he approached the stuttering teenager. Positive to some degree that his belongings would make it to his room, Arthur couldn't say he was as sure as to the boy's wellbeing.

"Poor chap," whispered Arthur pityingly as he walked briskly to the front desk (a gentleman never runs), happy to have escaped the off-putting Russian. Placing his hands on the desk lightly, the Englishman asked politely, "Can I see Mr. Beilschmidt?"

His question seemed to meet a wall of silence from the man and woman sitting behind the desk. The man was sleeping in his chair, head thrown back, while the woman was intently, yet dully, staring at the computer in front of her. The only tell-tale sign she was awake was the fact that her hand moved the mouse periodically. Frowning a little at being ignored, Arthur cleared his throat to try and attempt to get their attention again.

The man only shifted in his sleep and the woman merely glared at him before returning to her game.

Arthur felt his frown deepen, annoyed that Braginski, though disturbing, had been more helpful than the people who would be the most useful.

"I was told to see Mr. Beilschmidt upon my arrival," he told them flatly, trying not to express his vocal frustration; he knew it was too late to keep it off his face.

The woman, who had blonde hair that was held back with a black headband, sighed as she finally met his eyes. The man remained as he was.

"Which one?"

Kirkland blinked in confusion.

"There's more than one?"

Rolling her green eyes in exasperation, she replied, "Why else would I ask you which one, you idiot?"

Shifting uncertainly, he murmured, "Sorry…I…I don't know which one. I just know he hired me to work at the bar…"

"That makes you the 'awesome' Londoner that asshole was boasting about arriving this morning." It shocked Arthur to hear the man speak when he had thought him asleep. The man's stance hadn't changed, but his eyes were opened enough to look Arthur over. "You don't really look that 'awesome'…"

The woman cocked an eyebrow and glanced over Kirkland herself, nodding slowly. "I agree. Looks fairly average to me; well, except for those massive caterpillars above his eyes."

"Please!" Arthur managed to surprise them and himself with how desperate his voice sounded. He flushed lightly and continued on, softer, "Can one of you tell me where to find the Mr. Beilschmidt who hired me? Please?"

"He's on the second floor last I heard. Bothering the kitchen help again, or…something..." The man's reply was monotone, and his glazed over green eyes seemed to be barely focusing on the spot where Arthur stood.

Tilting his head slightly at them, Arthur said, "Thank you for your help," and walked off in the direction of the stairs. Behind him, he heard the two employees begin bickering about something, though he thought he caught the word 'chocolate' being mentioned.

Now that he didn't have forward Russians or unhelpful front desk people to bargain with, the Englishman was finally able to fully comprehend the interior of the _Tortuga_.

The color scheme of the entire building was obvious. Paint cans of white, gold, off-white, and red with a greenish tint had practically been thrown everywhere inside of the lobby. The floor was lain with a magnificent marble tile, the sole exception being the red rug that led to the lounge which lay at the very center of the ground floor. The lounge itself was decorated with gold and red furniture with the occasional potted fern or plant sitting about. As he walked further into the decorative lounge, Arthur realized that you could see every single floor from the direct center of the ground floor.

As he was looking up, he noticed that the ceiling was high and rounded—an expensive and detailed (almost obnoxiously so) chandelier dangling from the dome's center. The lighting was, in general, a warm golden glow that seemed to radiate from the inset lamps that sprouted from the walls. Glancing behind him, he saw that the front desk was on the left side upon entering the doors, a fact he hadn't really seen when being drug in by Ivan.

Eyes forward once more, Arthur saw that behind the lobby's lounge was his destination: two staircases. Both on opposite ends, and both leading up to the first and then second floor. A glass elevator was positioned between them.

Nearly completely dumbfounded at the sheer immensity of it all, the Brit steadily made his way to one of the staircases. Climbing the stairs slowly, he began to wonder if he would ever get used to the grandiose nature of it all.

The moment he saw that there was an in-house florist called 'The Scarlet Pimpernel' that took up about half of the first floor, he severely doubted it.

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A/N: Oh, and I'm going to be going off to college in about two weeks, so if all the sudden there's nothing-school happened. I don't know _exactly_ how often I'll update, but I'll try to post...weekly? That sound fair? I may post more frequently or less depending on how good of a flow I have on the plot.

I also use pretty much every country in this fic. Most won't be appearing a lot, but they'll be mentioned. I had to make up human names for those who didn't already have them, and I tried to use the ones I've seen a lot in other works. I'll tell you if it isn't obvious.

And yes, the name of the flower shop can be a direct allusion to the novel by Baronnes Orczy, but it isn't. It was originally Primrose.

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TRANSLATIONS:

_da_ (Russian) - yes

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Reviews may make Raivis's "punishment" less severe.


	2. The Bosses Three

I'd like to thank the people who reviewed and the people who subscribed! You guys seriously made me very happy! So the next chapter is up before the week is, but that's because right now I have nothing better to do than write this story. Hopefully the chapters will get longer as the story goes on. This one is actually longer than the first (by like, 200 words!), and like the first, it ends with Arthur on the stairs. Haha I didn't even plan that...

Bunch of new people, but besides maybe one you know who they are...so I'll let you guess who the one possibly-not-so-easy-to-know character. He was kinda hard to write. D:

Anyway, enjoy~!

Disclaimer: I don't own the series. I would say I owned Dragonfly, but I don't think either Francis or Antonio want me in their kitchen...The results would be almost as bad as if Arthur had been in there...

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As Arthur stepped onto the second floor, it was all he could do not to notice the _Tortuga's_ restaurant, Dragonfly. Its color scheme was largely the same as the lounge downstairs, though there seemed to be a bit more red than gold. From where he stood, he could also see that the actual restaurant part of Dragonfly was closed, but there were a few tables where people sat nursing some drinks on the outer lying area of the floor. Way off to the side was the bar, where he could only assume he'd be working, perhaps even tonight. The darkened lighting around it meant it was just as closed as the food part of the restaurant.

"It's good to know they don't support drinking before noon," mused Arthur, glancing at his wristwatch to see that it was 11:24 in the morning. Seeing the time reminded him that he was to meet up with Mr. Beilschmidt by noon, and he still wasn't even sure if his new boss was in the kitchen of Dragonfly. Determined to not let another future coworker deter his mission so greatly like the buffoons at the front desk (though he granted it was his fault he didn't know there was more than one Beilschmidt), Arthur straightened the tie of his suit and marched towards the double swinging doors leading to the kitchen.

He was almost immediately stopped by a brown haired teenage boy. Blinking in surprise as he observed his young interference, Kirkland saw that he appeared older than the bellhop Raivis, but not by much. The boy was also obviously Asian, while Raivis had just been generically European looking. The two of them stood there for a while, in silence, which was quickly draining the confidence Arthur had worked up during his ascent.

"U-Uh I'm here to see Mr. Beilschmidt, do you happen to know where he—" The Englishman was interrupted by another Asian man, who was however thankfully more vocal.

"Enlai~ you no frightening customer, are you? What did Mr. Bonnefoy tell you, aru?" The approaching man was obviously more frustrated by the boy's silence than Arthur was which made him feel a little better about being intimidated by the teenager. It had happened to others beside him.

The newcomer, bowed upon reaching them, his long black hair swishing over his shoulder as he did so. He immediately stood straight again, pushing the boy out of the way.

"I sorry about Enlai, aru. He have tendency to no talk to customers. I am Yao Wang, his older brother." The man, Yao, bowed again, a smile on his face when he came back up. "How I help you, aru?"

Smiling back, Arthur repeated, "I'm Arthur Kirkland, and I'm just looking for Mr. Beilschmidt. The man at the front desk told me he might be found in the kitchen…"

"Aiya! Why did you no say so sooner? Even Enlai could do that, aru! Follow me!" Yao spun on his heels and walked briskly back to the kitchen. A little shocked at the abruptness of his answer, Arthur hurried to walk after him, only barely noticing that the boy, Enlai, was walking beside him.

There were almost there when suddenly Enlai said in a monotone, "Eyebrows."

Fully prepared to give him a gentle reprimand, Arthur stopped when he turned to Enlai and found that the boy too had unfortunately big eyebrows. Embarrassed, the Brit coughed into his hand that he had raised and murmured, "Y-Yes, quite…" before speeding up his pace a little.

For some reason, this answer seemed to please the Asian boy, who nodded and walked off in a different direction. Kirkland watched him for a couple seconds before he realized Yao had stopped walking.

Yao gave him an inquiring look, glancing at where his younger brother had gone. "Enlai say nothing bad to you, yes?"

"N-No, not at all…"

"Good, good. Mr. Beilschmidt this way." Wang inclined his head towards the kitchen doors and pushed them open, walking in. "He bothering Mr. Bonnefoy and Mr. Carriedo as they plan specials."

Numbly, Arthur followed the man as he weaved in and out of the kitchen equipment, most of it currently inactive. There weren't even any people making any food at all, though there was a lone dark-skinned man pouring two cups of coffee. He completely ignored Arthur and Yao as they walked past the actual kitchen to reach the office at the back.

Not turning to consult Arthur this time, Yao knocked loudly on the office door, and yelled, "Mr. Beilschmidt! A Mr. Kirkland is here to see you, aru!"

Voices could be heard to be bickering, and the Englishman was about to ask Yao if this was the right office when a man boisterously replied, "_Ja_, send him in Wang! My awesome self has been waiting for this bastard all morning!"

Yao stepped aside, and gestured for Arthur to go in before walking away to, presumably, return to his job. Arthur shifted his glance almost helplessly between the doorknob and Yao's retreating back.

That hadn't been particularly nice of him to just leave him there like that, but before any more bitter thoughts could pass through the gentlemanly Brit's head, he realized he had yet to thank Yao. Deeming that even more profoundly rude than being left, he was about to quickly thank him when the door was yanked open.

"Whatcha keeping the awesome me waiting for, huh? Get your scrawny limey ass in here, Kirkland!" The voice of his new boss startled Arthur, causing him to face the person standing in the door. The man there was a bit taller than Arthur, and had shocking white hair that somehow went perfectly with his blood-red eyes.

"S-Sorry Mr. Beilschmidt!" apologized Arthur as he bowed his head, taking a mental note to thank Yao later for his assistance.

"Hmph, whatever, just get in here," grumbled Beilschmidt as he stepped aside, allowing for Arthur to walk past him into the office.

"Eh? This is the _hombre_ you were talking about earlier, _amigo_?" inquired a cheery male voice. Looking around the room, Kirkland found that it belonged to a curly brown haired man who was sitting on the desk towards the back of the room. The man had light brown skin, as if he'd spent one too many days out in the sun, and his greens eyes shone alongside his smile as he watched Arthur and the albino.

"Hn, he isn't quite the _beaux_ you said he was, _mon cher_," added the blonde man sitting in the chair behind the desk. He was lazily resting his chin on his hand; his blues eyes observing Arthur nonchalantly. "In fact, he's rather just a plain old _Rosbif_ if you ask me…"

It was all the Englishman could do not to retort, 'Well no one did ask you, ya bastard,' but that would be incredibly rude, considering the fact that he didn't even know the man's name yet.

However when he did, perhaps he could make an exception of gentleman behavior for the Frenchman.

"Kesesese this guy may seem average, but I've heard from a reliable source that he's pretty good with drinks!" Beilschmidt beamed, a wide grin on his face as he clasped a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt, and these two less awesome people are my friends and co-managers: Francis Bonnefoy and Antonio Fernandez Carriedo! Francis, Antonio, this is Arthur Kirkland, our new bartender!"

"_Bonjour, Monsieur Sourcils_." The Brit winced a little at the French nickname he had a feeling would stick.

"_Hola_, Arthur!" Kirkland restrained the urge to frown at being addressed so informally.

Arthur Kirkland was dumbfounded. _These_ guys were the managers of _La Tortuga_? They were so…so…juvenile…

"Hello Mr. Bonnefoy, Mr. Carriedo, Mr. Beilschmidt. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Honhon, no need to be so formal, _Monsieur Sourcils_! Simply Francis will suffice!" The Frenchman smiled coyly at Arthur, only causing him to dislike this Bonnefoy more.

"_Si, si_! You can just call me 'Boss' if ya want!" chirped the Spaniard happily, a goofy grin on his face. A goofy grin that for some reason seemed to have a dark purpose behind it that even its owner didn't fully realize…

"And you can call me 'Sir Awesome'!" Ruffling Kirkland's hair roughly, Gilbert chuckled and continued, "So you've met your new bosses, anything you wanna add Kirkland?"

Arthur took a few moments to glance at Gilbert and Antonio before locking eyes with Francis. He desperately wanted to say something to the damnable frog, but despite knowing his name now, Bonnefoy was one of his bosses. While he might take insults from Gilbert, who was a friend, he might not take to it so kindly from a new employee who could be easily fired.

"I have nothing else to say, sir…" Gilbert gave the Englishman a pointed stare and he grudgingly revised, "I have nothing else to say, Sir _Awesome_…"

"Alright then! I'll take you to Lud's office, and he'll take you to your room! Be right back, Francis, Tony!" Gilbert then pushed Arthur out of the office, closing the door behind him.

"Pardon me, but wouldn't it just be easier for you to show me?" Kirkland looked down at his feet the moment Beilschmidt set his eyes on him.

"_Ja_, I suppose it would be, _aber_ I need to continue bugging Francis and Tony as they come up with tonight's specials." He winked cheekily at Arthur, who desperately wanted to roll his eyes back. "'Sides! You'll like Lud! He's got a stick up his ass that is even bigger than yours!"

Feeling a light blush spread across his cheeks, Arthur tried not to glare at Gilbert, but couldn't help himself. The man was an obnoxious prat.

However, instead of angering the German, it just made him laugh.

"Kesesese, though I must say, Kirkland! You're a lot easier to get a rise out of than _meinen Bruder_."

Arthur blinked. Well, that explained the 'which Beilschmidt' question posed by the woman at the front desk earlier. The other one was Gilbert's brother.

By now they had made their way out of the kitchen and past the closed part of the restaurant. As they neared the stairs, the Englishman saw that on the other side of the floor was what looked like a whole other restaurant, but with the same overall scheme. Seeing the Londoner's gaze, Beilschmidt calmly explained.

"Yeah, it's still the Dragonfly, but that's where breakfast is served. It has its own kitchen and everything, but it closes at ten." Leading the way back down the stairs, Gilbert continued talking, "Lud works in maintenance, but you can go to him if you have a problem with anything. He seems like a tough guy, but don't let that fool ya. He's just a big marshmallow."

The Brit just nodded, not really feeling up to commenting on his boss's commentary. He had a feeling Gilbert would keep rambling with or without his input, so he decided to save his breath as they traveled to the other Beilschmidt's office...

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A/N: ...So did you like it? Did you figure out who that one possibly-not-so-easy-to-know character is? I'll give the official answer at the beginning of the next chapter (though I don't think it's actually that hard to figure out...)

I don't think this chapter was quite as fulfilling as the first...maybe it's from the lack of Alfred, who I promise is appearing soon! If not the next chapter, then definitely the next!

Seriously guys, I don't really know that much more about what's going to happen than you do...

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TRANSLATIONS:

_Ja_ (German) - yes

_hombre_ (Spanish) - man

_amigo _(Spanish) - friend

_beaux _(French) - handsome man_  
_

_mon cher_ (French) - my dear/love

_Rosbif_ (French) - Roastbeef, apparently a name they call the English

_Bonjour Monsieur Sourcils _(French) - Hello Mr. Eyebrows_  
_

_Hola_ (Spanish) - Hi/Hello

_Si, si_ (Spanish) - Yes, yes

_aber_ (German) - but

_mein Bruder_ (German) - my brother

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Reviews will be used as ammo for Arthur to throw at Francis! (But subscribing/favoriting works too if you're lazy!)


	3. The Other Beilschmidt

Ah, you guys are simply awesome! It really makes it hard for me to tell you that this chapter is like, half of the previous two! I'M SORRY.

AND THERE'S NOT EVEN ALFRED TO MAKE UP FOR IT.

But he's in the next chapter, I PROMISE. Chapter 3 and 4 could've been one entity, but I have this thing where I can "feel" the end of the chapter, and this felt like all chapter 3 should be. At least Artie makes a friend! :D

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but it doesn't stop me from wishing~

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As it turned out, the younger Beilschmidt's office was just one floor down. It was located on the opposite side of the flower shop amidst the main office rooms.

"Everyone here is very…" Arthur paused when he saw one office full of clay pots. He shook his head, focusing on following Gilbert, and finished, "…unique."

Finally stopping outside of the door at the end of the hall, Gilbert snickered, "_Ja_, you could say that, but the awesome me promises you'll get used to it. Everybody does."

Arthur wanted to ask how long it would take to "get used" to creepy Russians, strange Asian hosts, annoying Frenchmen, and unhelpful receptionists, but was prevented by him knocking on the door which read 'MAINTENANCE'.

"Yo, Lud!" exclaimed Gilbert as he just walked into the room without waiting for a response. Tentatively, Arthur followed behind, unsure of the kind of person he'd meet next. "I got Arthur Kirkland with me, and I want you to take him to his room!"

Kirkland heard a frustrated sigh emit from the blonde man sitting behind the desk, papers almost flowing off of it. The man rubbed his eyes with one hand at the sound of his brother's voice, and took his glasses off with the other.

"_Bruder_, as if you didn't already know, I have much work to do, and there's still that dripping faucet I must attend to on the eighth floor because Leandro took the day off, Mathias is slacking off as usual, and Berwald is sleeping after his night shift at the door." His blue eyes met his brother's red ones, and though the look was stern, the tone of his voice was almost pleading. "I am _sehr_ busy. _Kannst du es nicht selber machen_?"

For a moment, it appeared as if Gilbert was going to give in to his brother. His face was thoughtful as a finger stroked his chin, but eventually a grin came over his face and he said, "_Nein_! I'm also busy with Francis and Antonio. Plus I'm your awesome boss, so you gotta do what I say!"

The blonde rolled his eyes, letting out a groan of defeat. "Just…go, Gilbert."

"Kesesese," was all Gilbert adding as he marched out triumphantly, slamming the door behind him, making both Arthur and the blonde German wince.

Mumbling under his breath in German, the younger Beilschmidt stood up from his desk and walked over to Arthur. "Mr. Kirkland, I am Ludwig Beilschmidt. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"And for me to make yours," replied Arthur, smiling as they shook hands. "If you want, Mr. Beilschmidt, you could just give me my room number and key, and I'll find my own way. It can't be that difficult."

Ludwig gave the hint of what looked like a grateful smile before saying, "That is nice of you Mr. Kirkland, but if I remember from what I told Mr. Braginski when he asked where to take your things, you live on the eighth floor as well as the tenant with a leak. It is fairly convenient for me to show you to your room."

"Well, if that's the case, may I ask why you tried to fend me off onto your…eccentric brother?"

"My paperwork is piling up, and truthfully, the leak can wait until at least the end of the week. The tenant notified me of it before they went on vacation, simply wanting it fixed before they got back. Besides, it'd be nice if _Bruder_ actually did some work around here instead of just playing around with Francis and Tony…"

Arthur couldn't help but feel a surge of pity for the young German.

"I work nights, so I could maybe help you when you're short-staffed during the day," offered Kirkland, smiling warmly at Ludwig. "I used to help my brothers around the house growing up, so I at least know the basics…"

"I just might take you up on that Mr. Kirkland."

"Please, call me Arthur. We're coworkers after all."

Ludwig nodded—a small smile on his lips as he walked over to his desk and picked up a set of keys and a slip of paper.

"Then please, call me Ludwig," amended Ludwig as he made his way to his door and opened it, holding it for Arthur to walk out.

Pleased to have made at least one _sane_ friend in this new place, Arthur grinned a little wider as he exited the room and waited for the German to lead the way.

-_La Tortuga de Oro_-

"Here we are—room 810." Arthur looked at Ludwig, who was holding out the key to the room to him.

Arthur smiled as he took the key from the German, who merely nodded at him—wordlessly accepting their newly found camaraderie.

"Thank you taking me to my room, Ludwig." Arthur held out his hand again, smile still in place.

"It was nothing," Ludwig replied as he accepted the friendly gesture. "Come to my office if you need help or run into trouble, though doubtless, _mein Bruder_ already told you to do the exact same thing."

Chuckling softly, the Englishman said, "Heh, yes he did, but I'll try not to bother you too much with trifling matters."

The younger Beilschmidt, rubbing his forehead, sighed, "If only such words could be said about some of the staff of _La Tortuga_…" He seemed to shake himself away from the bad memories associated with the thought, and added as he met Arthur's eyes, "Well, I'd better move on to that leak so I can go back downstairs to my paperwork. I hope you find your room to your liking."

"I'm sure I will, thank you."

Kirkland waited until Ludwig had walked a ways down the hall before inserting his key into his lock and opening the door to his new apartment for the first time.

Looking in, Arthur couldn't believe that there had been a possibility that he _wouldn't_ like it.

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A/N: Bah, I'm not too fond of this chapter...well, the end anyway. I like the beginning. Meh, I just got kinda stuck on it and I was going out a lot these past couple days, so nothing really flowed.

But the next chapter should at least be on par with the second, and there will be Alfred.

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TRANSLATIONS:

_sehr _(German) - very

_Kannst du es nicht selber machen_? (German) - Can you not do it yourself?

_Nein_ (German) - no

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Reviews help Ludwig with his paperwork! (And they make me want to work more on the story! XD)


	4. Detective Kirkland

OMG. 1) You guys are awesome! 2) THIS CHAPTER IS MONSTROUS (compared to the others)! 3) ALFRED!

I'm so proud of this chapter. New characters and some reappearances of already introduced ones.

I make no promises that chapters will always be this long. They have the tendency to be whatever length they feel like it. They could even get longer than this 3,000 word+ monster.

Disclaimer: I own the layout of Artie's room, but other than that, nothing. Not even the color scheme really.

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The first thing he saw upon entering room 810 was that this place put his London flat to death by shame.

With walls painted a pleasing shade of beige, it melded into the deep red carpet that spread out before him. To his immediate left was an entryway table that already had a little bowl for his keys, and as he walked further in, closing the door behind him, he saw that the living room and the dining room were one.

Directly in front of him was an entertainment center with a plasma TV perched above it on the wall. The couch before it was a dark burnt orange that was paired with a glass coffee table. The dining mahogany table was circular, and it and its four matching chairs fit into the space before the kitchen.

In the kitchen was your basic set-up, with a massive freezer-refrigerator, dishwasher, and stovetop oven on the left and the double-sided sink, counter space, and cabinets on the right, with the pantry dead ahead.

Turning around, Arthur saw two doors, one on either side. The left one turned out to lead into a little sitting room that had a lot of bookcases and a chair in the corner with a little table by it and a lamp. It was so far one of the most amazing parts of the apartment to him. He had a real place to read and do his embroidery. It helped him calm down and relax; he didn't understand why people always thought it funny that he did it…

Backing up to go investigate the room that the other door led to, he found it opened up into his new bedroom. The oak dresser was to his right with the bed and a nightstand on the left while there was a desk equipped with a computer in between. His bed was covered in cream colored, almost golden, sheets and a matching comforter with a simple square design. The computer was a basic laptop with a printer next to it on the desk and a comfortable rolly chair before it. The door to his closet was right next to the door he had just walked into, and just a little bit away from that, was the door to his bathroom.

Arthur's mouth finally dropped upon seeing the bathroom, something it'd been threatening to do from the beginning. The marble tile from the lobby made a reappearance as the flooring of his bathroom, with only an oblong pale red rug to cover a stretch from the door to the shower. As he walked further it, he realized that not only did he have a fantastic shower with a fancy shower head, but he also had a Jacuzzi bath. In his bathroom. Jacuzzi bath.

The Englishman was pretty sure that if he had been born a girl, he would've squealed with delight. He was a gentleman, and gentlemen do not _squeal_.

They do, however, have spastic movements that indicate happiness, which had anyone saw would've mistaken for a seizure.

After he was done flailing, an important question entered his brain, a question that perhaps should've struck him earlier: where were his bags?

He walked back out into the living room, thinking that would be the most polite and least intrusive place to leave them. They weren't there.

Eyebrows furrowing at this oddity, he went back into the bedroom to look for them there. Upon seeing that they weren't out in the open, he checked the closet. Sitting against the back wall they sat, as if they simply belonged there. Ignoring the fact that Braginski had felt the disturbing need to put them away for him and simply relieved that they had arrived in his room safely, he walked the short distance to them and lifted them up.

Kirkland paused, slowly shifting his gaze to look back down at his luggage, lifting them up and down easily.

…why were they so light?

Arthur knew he didn't have that many possessions, but he knew for a fact that his suitcases had been much heavier than this before getting into the taxi at the airport.

A sense of dread began to fill him as he set them down again and opened them. He stood there, hands limply at his sides as he stared at his empty suitcases. Where the bloody hell was his stuff?

Looking back up and around in his closet, he was shocked to find that his suits had been hung up already. Glad that he knew where at least some of his clothes were but frowning all the same, the Brit walked out of his closet and over to the dresser. Opening each drawer showed another portion of his clothes, neatly organized and folded.

"Oh now Braginski crossed the line," growled Arthur as he shut the last drawer loudly. There's being polite, and then there's being creepy. Not that he didn't already think the Russian a bit of an odd duck, but he was now beginning to feel the tendrils of contempt.

So it was in an obviously bad mood that Arthur made his way to the elevator at the center of the floor, and returned to the lobby in search of Ivan.

"Hey look, it's that annoying British guy with the big eyebrows from earlier…" Arthur heard the woman at the front desk murmur as he walked past them, heading straight for the big swinging double doors that led into the building. Normally Kirkland would've stopped and said something back, but he was too focused on his mission to scold them for being rude.

However, he stopped anyway when he saw that the doorman standing outside was not the same blonde from earlier. His hair was a brighter blonde than the Russian's and his eyes were blue instead of purple.

"May I 'lp ya?" asked the man, his face stern and his body stance intimidating, Arthur remained mute in the presence of this man, even though he _had_ been staring. The man stepped closer. "'re ya 'kay?"

Arthur was about to respond, he promises, when a shorter man in a bellhop outfit came out of the building. He had pale blonde hair and purple eyes. It reminded Arthur of Ivan, but he could tell immediately that at least this guy was friendly in a good way.

"Berwald! Do you know where Mathias is? Ludwig is looking for him, and—," the man saw Arthur, and added, "Oh! Hello! I'm Tino Väinämöinen!"

Tino caught the questioning glance towards the bigger man he had been talking to, and smiled as he patted the larger man's arm and continued, "This guy is Berwald Oxenstierna."

"I-I'm Arthur Kirkland…"

"So you're the Kirkland Ludwig mentioned, eh?" Tino kept on smiling at him, and Arthur was able to relax a bit. "He said you might go wandering around after investigating your room, and that we were to keep an eye out so we could help you out!"

Knowing that his new friend was already looking out for him, Arthur almost forgot his anger, but then he remembered why he had left his room in the first place.

"Hey, do you know where the doorman from earlier is? I need to ask him something." This seemed to surprise both Tino and Berwald, though it was hard to tell with the latter.

"Ivan?" began Tino, the shock evident on his face, "His shift ended at noon. He's back in his room now."

"I see," muttered Kirkland thoughtfully before asking, "Do you know what floor he lives on? It's really important."

Tino and Berwald exchanged a look. A look that made Arthur feel even more like a newcomer.

"We know where he lives, but you shouldn't bother him right now. Raivis just got off too…" Tino trailed off, looking kind of nervous.

Giving them an odd look, Kirkland inquired, "What does Raivis have to do with anything?"

"'s 'ckin' 'm," replied Berwald simply.

"B-Berwald!" exclaimed Tino, a light blush on his face.

Arthur was confused. He hadn't understood what Berwald had said or why Tino wouldn't tell him where Ivan lived.

"I-I'll just wait until I see him again then…" mumbled Arthur as he opened the door to go back inside.

"Okay! See you around, Arthur!"

"G'bye…"

As the door swung shut behind him, Arthur sighed in frustration. They had been nice, but largely unhelpful in his search for the Russian. He was about to give in and go up to the front desk again when he saw a couple guys in bellhop outfits going up the stairs. Seeing as they didn't have any luggage with them, Arthur reasoned that they must have just gotten off their shift as well.

'_Maybe they could tell me,_' thought the Brit as he walked hurriedly so that he could catch up and not draw attention to himself as he did so.

He caught up with them as they leveled out onto the second floor, the blonde one was clapping the brunette on the back, who seemed exasperated by his friend. They were almost inside the restaurant area when Arthur called out to them:

"Excuse me!" The two men turned around to face Kirkland, confused as to who would want them. Suddenly, the brashness of his actions hit him, and Arthur felt decidedly nervous.

"Like, yeah, what do you want?" inquired the blonde, his green eyes showing nothing but annoyance at being stopped by a stranger.

"Feliks!" His friend nudged him in the side, embarrassment in his green eyes. He looked Arthur in the eyes and bowed his head a little. "I'm sorry, sir. How may we help you?"

"N-No need to call me 'sir', I work here like you two now…"

The brunette's eyes clouded in recollection before his smile brightened up his face. The blonde remained looking pissed off.

"Arthur Kirkland, right? I'm Toris Lorinaitis, and this is my best friend and partner, Feliks Łukasiewicz! What is it you need?"

The Englishman smiled; at least one of the two would be helpful.

"I'm looking for Braginski, the doorman. He arranged for my things to be taken to my room, and I have a question about the way he did it."

Toris began to look worried, "Did your things not make it to your room?"

"Huh? Oh they did, I just have a question for Braginski about how he…arranged my things once he got them to my room."

"Braginski, like totally, wasn't the guy who lugged your crap to your room." Arthur raised an eyebrow in confusion, and despite Toris's objections, Feliks continued. "It was, like, Toris and me who carried your crap up to the seventh floor!"

"Seventh floor? But I live on the eighth…" Kirkland pointedly looked at Toris, who seemed to be the easier one to talk to.

With a little sigh, Toris explained, "Mr. Ivan got your room key from Mr. Ludwig, but because his shift was over soon, he asked me and Feliks to take it to your room. We had gotten to the seventh floor when Mr. Alfred offered to take it up the rest of the way so we could clock out of our shift."

"…So it was this 'Mr. Alfred' who actually physically took my bags into my room?"

"Like, that's what Toris said. What, are those ginormous eyebrows, like, obstructing your hearing, or something?"

"Feliks!" cried Toris, his face growing worried and exasperated at the same time. Arthur felt one of his 'ginormous' eyebrows twitch as he tried not to get too angry at yet another comment about his appearance.

"Well, can you please tell me where to find this man?"

"Mr. Alfred is a waiter, though he sometimes helps out Mr. Ludwig," answered Toris, casting a glance at his friend as if warning him to stay quiet. Feliks merely rolled his eyes and mouthed, 'Whatever…'

"Thank you, Toris…Feliks…"

"It was nothing, Mr. Arthur! I hope you get the answers you wanted!" Toris then dragged Feliks away, pulling him into a heated whispering, which Arthur was fairly certain had something to do about being rude to people, as they walked into the restaurant, headed straight for the kitchen.

He also had a feeling that the blonde wouldn't listen.

Happy that he finally found out who the pervert who put away his clothes was, Arthur finished walking into the restaurant himself, determined to find this 'Alfred'. He had only taken a couple steps, when his foot caught on something and he found himself falling. Closing his eyes, Arthur braced himself for the impact.

He opened his eyes when it never came.

"Haha, you alright buddy? You gotta be more careful about where you walk!" Arthur looked up and found the owner of perhaps the clearest blue eyes he'd ever seen. The man grinned when he saw that the Englishman was staring at his face, and he cheekily tried to do a dramatic flip with his blonde hair.

Blushing, Arthur pushed off the man, who had caught him under the arms, and stood straight, brushing himself off as he looked around for what he tripped over.

The offending object, he found, was the incredibly silent waiter, Enlai. Or rather, it was his foot. The boy was crouched on the ground, hiding behind a table. Arthur was about to say something as Enlai stood up, but Yao beat him to it.

"Aiya! Enlai! What have I tell you about doing that, aru? It no good for business if you make customers fall!" Yao slowed his light jog as he recognized Arthur from earlier. The frustrated scowl on his face lightened some, but Arthur just frowned harder. "Oh, it just Mr. Kirkland."

"Kirkland? As in Arthur Kirkland?" inquired Arthur's 'rescuer' incredulously. Suspicious, Arthur looked at him again with eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes, that's me. Something wrong with that?" The blonde man looked him over critically, as if inspecting him.

"Hmm?" started the man distractedly before waving the question off, "Oh, no—I just didn't expect you to look quite like this. I was thinking more of Pierce Brosnan in _GoldenEye_…"

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the blonde man. "Being British does not automatically make one look like the _fictional_ character of James Bond."

The man shrugged, "Yeah, but a man can dream, right?"

Rolling his eyes, Kirkland decided to ignore him, and turned back to Yao, who was currently trying to get Enlai to go back to work.

"Yao, I'm looking for a waiter named Alfred, do you know where I might find him?"

His hands already full with his little brother, Yao just gave Arthur one of those looks that meant that person clearly thinks you're an idiot and remarked, "You joking, yes? I sorry for Enlai; he has dislike for the British, aru. Excuse us."

"Wha—Yao!" Arthur reached out with a hand as Yao dragged his brother away, probably to scold him some more, but let it drop limply to his side when the Asian man didn't so much as look over his shoulder. "Damnit…"

"I think I can help you…again…"

Hating the tone of triumph in the man's voice at being able to say that, Arthur nonetheless faced him once more, and asked shortly, "How exactly can you help?"

"Well, I know where you can find Alfred for one."

Arthur felt his expression lighten some. "Where is he then?"

The unnamed waiter was about to say something when another man, who came jogging out of the kitchen, shouted, "Alfred! Hey Al! Papa said he wanted us to help get the kitchen ready for lunch!"

Dumbfounded, Arthur could only stare as he and the blonde man were joined by yet another blonde man who had purple eyes. The semblance between him and the first was obvious, but Arthur had more important things to think about than possible familial relations.

"Y-You—! You're—!"

If he could think in complete sentences anyway.

"Mattie!" whined the first blonde man, a pout on his lips, "You ruined my big reveal!"

The second blonde man blinked in confusion, looking between the first and Arthur a couple times before focusing on Arthur. The moment his eyes saw Arthur's eyebrows, his eyes lit up. Arthur forgot to grumble in his state of shock.

"This is the Arthur guy Gilbert was talking about, eh?" The first blonde nodded excitedly, and the second turned back to the Englishman. "I'm Matthew Williams, pleased to meet you."

Matthew offered his hand and Arthur shook it numbly.

"And I'm Alfred F. Jones, the legendary hero of the Golden Turtle!"

That snapped Arthur out of his trance.

"YOU'RE THE BLOODY WANKER WHO RIFFLED THROUGH MY STUFF!" shouted Arthur angrily, glaring at Alfred darkly.

Both Alfred and Matthew gaped a little at the Brit's outburst, who then realized the public-ness of his accusations. Several of the customers who sat at tables were staring at them, and though already red in the face from anger, it grew worse when he started blushing at the unwanted attention.

"What did you do this time, Al?" Matthew asked, his tone of voice hinting at future scolding. "And it's _La Tortuga de Oro_, not 'the Golden Turtle'! Just because you can't roll your r's doesn't mean you should just translate it into English!"

"But English is so much better!" complained Alfred, not even looking at Arthur anymore, "And I didn't do anything! I just took his bags to his room and put his stuff away for him!"

"Al! That's an invasion of privacy!" Matthew glared at Alfred, who actually seemed to cower a little under it. "Do you want a lawsuit like Papa?"

Alfred's blue eyes grew incredibly wide, "NO."

"Then you shouldn't do such things as put away stranger's clothes." Turning to Arthur, Matthew sighed and offered up a weak smile. "I'm sorry my brother invaded your privacy, but he was only trying to be nice, eh. Can you forgive him?"

"I-I suppose," grumbled Kirkland, looking away from both Alfred and Matthew. So they were brothers, huh? He wondered why they had different last names then…

"Wonderful! Then we should get to the kitchen. Papa is probably wondering what's taking us so long," mused Matthew as he walked over to his brother and grabbed his wrist to begin dragging him forcefully to the kitchens.

"But Mattie! I don't want to help him! I want to stay with Artie!"

Matthew got a glimpse of Arthur's face, and rolled his eyes, grinning, as he trudged on, "I don't think Arthur wants very much for you to stay with him though, Al."

Alfred pouted, but continued flailing against his brother and shouting to Arthur, "Let go Matt! Artie, I'll show you around later, okay? So don't let anyone else do it! I saved your life! You owe me~!"

The Englishman had never been happier to see doors close on a man talking to him.

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A/N: Oh Alfred...he only gets worse from here on, I promise! ;D

Enlai is Hong Kong for those who don't know. My resources *cough bff cough* say that he doesn't like Arthur? So I figured he'd try to do random crap to mess with Arthur. Like tripping him.

DON'T COMPLAIN ABOUT HOW RANDOM IT IS. IT BROUGHT ABOUT ALFRED. (I actually have a possible real reason why for the story, but as River Song would say, "Spoilers!")

Oh, and obviously 'Papa' is Francis, but Arthur doesn't know that yet. And yes, I will explain exactly how the Alfred-Matthew-Francis family works later.

And Francis's lawsuits will make a reappearance for explanation later. I just don't know when.

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TRANSLATIONS:

"May I 'lp ya?" (Berwald-speak) - May I help you?

"'re ya 'kay?" (Berwald-speak) - Are you okay?

"'s 'ckin' 'm," (Berwald-speak) - He's fucking him. (SO CRASS LOL)

"G'bye…" (Berwald-speak) - Goodbye

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Reviews help Alfred escape the kitchen so he can go play with Arthur! :D

Also, Reviewers who know who River Song is are my favorites. JUST SAYIN'.


	5. First Night

Maybe it's just me, but it feels like forever since I posted a chapter...

So the next two days are going to be all about me doing laundry and packing for college because I move into my dorm on Friday and then I start classes on Monday. Do you know what sad thing this means readers?

Even less frequent updates than every 2-4 days. I'm still not sure how often I'll be updating. I'll have time, giving that I don't get outrageous amounts of homework. I would anticipate however updates coming most likely on Tuesdays and Thursdays because those days I only have one class.

Enough rambling-enjoy the last update before I go to college!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I almost don't think I need to. Hetalia pretty much writes in its own fanservice. (I will however own the dubbed seasons when they're released.)

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With the mystery of his bags solved, Arthur returned to his room to acquaint himself with his new lodgings. Plus, he figured it would be the easiest place for anyone to find him if he was needed.

His closer inspection of his room revealed a pamphlet on the coffee table which explained how everything was organized. The kitchen would be restocked by the grocers once a week and the maids cleaned everybody's room, even the other employees. There was also apparently a miniature gym behind the building that the employees and certain residents were allowed to use whenever they wanted. The swimming pool, indoor and out, were beside the gym.

Arthur just continued to marvel how _ideal_ of a place to live _La Tortuga_ was. It, quite literally, had everything one could hope for in an apartment/hotel.

Lazily looking at the clock on the wall opposite the TV, Arthur registered that it was now only two o'clock, so he had three hours before he had to report for work (one of the few things Gilbert had informed him of on the way to Ludwig's office).

A yawn escaped his mouth as he pondered over what to do until work. It seemed the jet-lag wanted to catch up with him, so the Englishman decided it might be best to take a little nap. After all, he had no idea how late exactly his shift would keep him up.

Confident that his trusty little alarm clock that had gotten him up many a day in college would not fail him, Arthur crawled into his new bed fully ready to drown in its luxury for a couple hours nap…

-_La Tortuga de Oro_-

Arthur had been having a good dream. He had been back in London, but his flat looked like his new housing, a definite plus. Nothing special had happened besides the typical frolicking with his mythical creature friends, and he had just been enjoying a perfectly good cup of Earl Grey when someone knocked on his door.

It was Alfred.

"_Hey, Artie! Going to let me in?"_ Dream-Arthur stared incredulously at his new frustration.

"_Why the bloody hell would I let you in my apartment?"_

Suddenly, Yao appeared out of nowhere and kept repeating, _"You joking, yes?"_

Alfred laughed heartily and answered, _"I'm your new roommate, Artie!"_

Echoes of the unwanted nickname harmonized with the horrified scream of Dream-Arthur until he realized he was, in fact, awake, and that Alfred very much was calling his name over and over.

"Artie, buddy, wake up!"

Later, when Alfred would tell Matthew and a barely paying attention Gilbert that Arthur had screamed, the Englishman would deny any such outrageous thought, but he would be blushing as he did so, causing mass disbelief at his words.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING HERE?" yelled (not screamed) Arthur, as he pulled his covers tighter around himself even though somewhere in his brain he knew it was stupid and feminine to do so. He was wearing clothes for pity's sake.

Alfred was sitting on his bed, looking at him as if he was a dog that'd just done a cute trick. Kirkland hated him all the more for it.

"I came to get you so I could show you around before you had to work, but I found you sleeping and it was kinda cute how you would mumble stuff about someone called Uni and giggle in your sleep like someone was tickling you…I couldn't bring myself to wake you up," answered Jones the little upturn of his grin pissing Arthur off even more than the fact the man was still in his room and had just called him cute in his own room! His own bloody room!

"I don't give a damn, Jones! I don't bleeding _want_ you to show me around, and I definitely don't want you in my apartment!" Arthur's face was beginning to grow red from anger. He'd had enough of this man, and he'd only met him a few hours ago.

Hours?

"Ack, damnit!" exclaimed Arthur as he saw the time on his alarm clock, which read 4:45pm. Gilbert had expressively told him to be at the bar before ten till. He had five minutes to prep himself before dashing downstairs.

The American merely reclined onto his hands as he continued to sit and watch Arthur buzz around his room, trying to find things. It annoyed Arthur that he seemed deeply amused by the Londoner's actions, but he didn't have time to fuss at him anymore. Jones had already made him possibly late to his first night at his new job.

"Why so rushed, Artie? It's only 4:32."

The Brit stopped hopping around trying to put his sock on his left foot, and stared blankly at Jones. 4:32? B-But his clock…

His alarm clock flashed the time of 4:47 mockingly as the Englishman remembered that he had set the clock fifteen minutes fast so that he would do exactly what he was doing, but the whole thing had to look incredibly idiotic to someone with the correct time.

A tinge of red appeared on his cheeks that declared his anger at himself and his embarrassment.

"I-I knew that, but I want to get down there early because it's my first night!" retorted Arthur defensively, focusing once again on putting his sock on, but with less vigor and less hopping.

"Haha of course—I should've known that'd be the case!" Alfred casually stood up and walked to the bedroom door, clapping Arthur on the back as he did so. "I'll show ya around another time, yeah?"

And then he was gone.

Scowling, Arthur finished getting ready anyway since he was already at it. Gilbert had told him that he would get his bartending uniform when he showed up, so he was just wearing a light blue long-sleeved button-up and jeans. Having relaxed since the departure of Jones, Arthur was almost at the brink of whistling as he locked his apartment door behind him.

That was when it hit him: how had Alfred gotten into his apartment? He had locked the door before taking his nap. He hadn't wanted anyone to disturb him, and he figured people would call the phone if they needed him that badly.

"What is he, a fucking _burglar_ in his spare time?" grumbled Arthur. He usually saved his swearing for when he was drunk, but there was something about the American that just royally pissed him off.

He tried to wipe the scowl off of his face before he reached the bar on the second floor, but that was impossible as he had to pass Dragonfly, and thereby Jones, to reach it. As he walked past, Alfred waved cheerily at him, gaining confused stares from the customers he was seating. The Englishman repressed the urge to flip him off, not with cliental around anyway, and just glared before turning his head sharply and acting like he hadn't seen him at all.

If Alfred called after him, he certainly didn't hear it, nor would he have cared.

"Ah, Kirkland! Awesome! Nice to see a new guy on time for a change!" greeted Gilbert from behind the bar, where there was already a couple people sitting. It was only almost five and people already wanted a drink.

Arthur rolled his eyes and thought, '_America_…'

"I believe in being punctual, sir..." England quickly added, "…awesome…"

Gilbert grinned and motioned for the Brit to come behind the bar with him. Arthur obediently did so, wondering when he would get his uniform exactly when there were already customers…

"Okay, so I'm gonna assume you already know the basics about bartendering," began Beilschmidt as he slung an arm around Kirkland's shoulders and gestured to the rows of alcoholic bottles, "And I'm gonna also assume that I won't need to baby you after your first few shifts. I'm a busy man, Kirkland. I got things to do, people to fuck with."

Frowning slightly at the blatant vulgarity in front of waiting customers, Arthur nodded. He had always been told he was a quick learner, so anything he actually didn't know he should pick up quickly. His summer job during college had, after all, been working as a bartender at the local pub. Though he wasn't quite sure how this got known by Gilbert as he refrained from putting it on his professional résumé.

"Good, then about your uniform." Arthur looked at Gilbert when he sensed that the man was looking him over. He raised an eyebrow at his boss, who shrugged and grinned. "I guess that'll do. I don't actually care what you wear. People come here to drink, not to ogle the bartender."

"That seems remarkably…informal," commented Arthur, hoping that Gilbert wouldn't take it as an insult.

Smirking, Gilbert replied, "Kesese, _ja_, _aber_ that's how I operate. I think you'll find me more relaxed than Francis, who is obsessed with Dragonfly being incredibly chic." Beilschmidt rolled his eyes at his own mention of his friend, and Arthur actually did find himself relaxing a little bit around his new boss, even if he was a tad bit in your face sometimes. Better than working under that French bastard alongside Jones.

Smiling a little, Arthur said confidently, "I think I'm going to like it here, sir…awesome."

The oldest German snickered softly, clapping Arthur on the back before walking away to take an order, "You don't actually have to call me that. Call me whatever you like, just don't _forget_ that I'm awesome!"

"Yes, sir!"

Gilbert waved a hand over his shoulder as he talked to the customer, and Arthur quickly familiarized himself with the basics of the bar before asking the nearest customer what they wanted. He easily fell into a routine of taking people's orders, refilling glasses, taking money, wiping glasses, etc.

Beilschmidt would grin at him from time to time or clap him on the shoulder as they passed each other, and it pleased Arthur immensely that Gilbert thought he was doing so well.

Though it'd been almost a year since he'd last worked as a bartender, it all came rushing back to him as Arthur went about his job, and he almost couldn't believe it when Gilbert began shutting down the bar at about one in the morning.

"You did good, kid. I might not bother sticking around the whole time tomorrow—just show up at the start of your shift and then come close up when it's over."

"Sounds fine to me, sir."

Gilbert looked over Arthur again one more time before smiling and shaking his head as he picked up the drawer from the cash register and headed around the bar and back towards the kitchens, where presumably he had an office as well.

"Go to bed, Kirkland. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, sir."

"G'night, kid."

Feeling accomplished and soothed by his brilliant first night at his new job, Arthur returned to his apartment in a happy haze. There was only one thing bothering him, but he couldn't quite remember what it was supposed to be. He felt like it was important to him, but he could also tell he would make himself angry when he did remember.

Arthur decided to shrug off remembering for the moment as he entered his apartment, a small smile working its way onto his face as he was reminded once again how amazing his rooming was now.

He wanted to enjoy his moment of content while it lasted. He'd remember in the morning if it was that important.

"I think I can learn to like it here…" he murmured softly to no one as he climbed into his bed for the second time, his eyes fluttering closed almost immediately despite his nap earlier. A mumble of "Bloody time zones…" was uttered before he fell asleep.

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A/N: Was this chapter a decent update? *sighs* I feel like it isn't because I rushed to finish it so I could update before I got insanely busy. At least I was thinking of you guys! Besides, there wasn't really anything else interesting to have happen on Artie's first day. At least now I can fast-forward to like, the next week or something. Things will move a little faster, which actually might make for longer chapters.

Anyway, because I might be MIA for maybe, a week? I invite you guys to go read some of my one-shots of Hetalia. I'd greatly appreciate it if you did. If you don't, then it's whatever. At least you like this story! /end shameless plug/

I think the best part of this chapter was Alfred. I love him and his stalker-like actions.

...I should probably come up with a reason _why_ he's obsessing over Artie, shouldn't I? Heh...

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TRANSLATIONS:

THERE ARE NONE. :D

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Reviews will get rid of Artie's jet-lag?

Screw that, just review with what Hetalia country you want to appear in the next chapter. I may fill more than one request! :D


	6. A Forced Compromise

OH MY GOD.

I'M SO SORRY.

I like, totally took way too long to write this chapter. I don't know why it gave me so much trouble when I pretty much knew what I wanted to write. I would get busy with school, but then do nothing important when I actually had free time (which I have a lot of, so don't worry about updates when I get back into this!).

I'm just glad this chapter is about as long as ch. 5. That way I don't feel like I cheat you guys by finally coming back, but giving you next to nothing.

So I'm just gonna talk more after the chapter.

ENJOY.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Except the season one of the dub. IT'S AWESOME-BUY IT.

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A week later found Arthur walking behind Ludwig, his hands holding a toolbox as the two of them made their way to the room of a tenant whose sink wasn't working quite the way it should.

"I just don't get it Ludwig! I ignore him as much as possible, but the prat still keeps bothering me! Always saying something about showing me around or similar nonsense! It's really pissing me off," concluded the Englishman as he followed his one real friend of the hotel so far.

The German remained silent, quietly inviting Arthur to go on with his rant. The Brit didn't need to be told twice.

"He's just completely infuriating! Everything about him just irks the socks off of me!" Ludwig gave him a look over his shoulder, and Arthur huffed a little. "Familial phrase. Anyway, I want the wanker to leave me alone, but he bloody won't. Sure, I've only been here for a little more than a week or so, but that twat has been in my room twice! Twice, Ludwig!"

This actually got a response out of the younger Beilschmidt. "Twice? When did that happen?"

"Hmm? Oh, the bellhops let him take my stuff to my room that first morning, and then the prat used his employee master key to get into my room and disturb my nap before work the same day," explained Arthur, bitterness evident in his voice.

Kirkland almost ran into his companion because the taller blonde man stopped suddenly.

"Arthur, I'm the only employee at this hotel besides the housekeeping staff that has a master key. If every employee had one, this hotel would be swamped with harassment lawsuits."

Shock began to register on Arthur's face. "W-What? Then how did he…how did he…?"

Ludwig backed up just a bit at the expression of utter fury that was making its way across Arthur's face. "Arthur?"

Smoldering green eyes looks up at Ludwig, and he wondered if he should take the toolbox away from his new friend.

"I'm sorry Ludwig, but I think I'm going to have to go have a talk with Jones. I'll help you out another time." The Londoner stiffly handed over the toolbox, nodded sharply, and then stalked off without another word. Stunned slightly, Ludwig just watched him go, glad that the maintenance work he was about to do was relatively simple. He'd just wanted to start Arthur on something small to see how skilled he actually was.

He shook his head as he continued down the hallway, toolbox in hand. For Alfred's sake, he hoped that Arthur calmed down some before he reached the American…

-_La Tortuga de Oro_-

There were no words to describe how utterly _pissed off_ Arthur was at the frustratingly persistent American waiter. It was just after noon that he marched into Dragonfly, purposefully ignoring the customers waiting in line to be seated who were indignant about being passed. He flashed his employee card to a particularly disgruntled man, and continued on his way, a small part of him on the look-out for the oddball host, Enlai. The young Asian boy seemed to decidedly have it in for him, and was always doing something to trip him up or just make him fall in general.

It was vaguely annoying.

But apparently Enlai was busy doing something, or Yao was occupying him for the moment because Arthur was not interrupted at all as he spied a head of wheat blonde hair across the room, taking a table's order. Eyes narrowing, the Englishman made a beeline for the American's location.

When he got up to him, he didn't say a word to Alfred other than a brisk, "We need to talk, Jones," and grabbed the other man's forearm tightly as he dragged him off towards the kitchen. What did it matter to him if Alfred was technically still on the job, and could potentially get fired? All the better for Arthur.

"What the—Artie?" His voice went from being angry that he was being pulled away to mildly pleased. Which just pissed Arthur off further as they passed through the swinging double doors of the kitchen, much to the befuddlement of the rest of the kitchen crew.

"Al, why are you in here? None of your orders are ready!" exclaimed his brother, Matt, as he ran up to the duo, an apron around his waist and a small frown on his face.

"I dunno! Ask Artie!" replied Alfred as Arthur continued to ignore the people around him and just focused on pulling Jones towards the back of the kitchen where he could chew him out and not be observed. "Ask Sadiq if he'll cover me for ten minutes!"

Matthew merely followed their movements with an exasperated look before turning around to find Sadiq, who would undoubtedly not be pleased with his co-worker's request.

They walked all the way to the back hallway that led to the freezer and the pantry. The only other person back there was a man who was sprawled across a few boxes, but Arthur wrote him off as an uninterested audience. He was snoring for one, though the small kitten curled up on his stomach kind of threw the Englishman off. Arthur let go of Alfred and spun around to face him.

"Who the bloody hell do you think you are, Alfred Jones?" growled Kirkland, his eyes burrowing their hatred into Jones, or attempting to anyway.

Alfred gave the Englishman before him a thoughtfully amused look. "Is that a trick question?"

Arthur merely gave him a glare before beginning his rant: "Shut the bloody hell up you wanker! Tell me why the hell you apparently saw fit to get yourself a key to my apartment when I don't even like you! You're not supposed to have a copy without my permission, and I definitely wouldn't have given permission! This is outrageous! I tell you to bugger off, and instead you go and follow me around like a loony! What is your bleeding problem?"

Still amused, but mildly stunned, the American man just stood there, taking Arthur's verbal abuse like he'd had worse. Kirkland couldn't help but think that was probably true. Then, Alfred smiled widely at him as if instead of scolding him for invading his privacy (again), that he had presented him with a gift. A cute puppy perhaps.

"Aww, Artie, how'd ya find me out so quickly?"

Yup, that made the Londoner pause for a moment before frowning and answering, "Ludwig told me that only housekeeping and him have master keys."

"Ah, Ludwig, he does love to spoil my fun, but while he's right, it doesn't mean I made a copy of your key!" Arthur raised a bushy eyebrow at his foe, silently imploring him to tell so he could be forewarned of how else the man would get in his apartment. "Haha, I just ask Feli or Katya to open the door for me whenever I want! Those maids sure are helpful! Oh, and the assistant helps me if I can't find one of the maids…though I don't like getting her help…" Alfred shuddered a little. "She always gets way too interested in why I want to go into your apartment…"

…

The Englishman stared blankly at Alfred, his frown gone for the moment as he was completely and utterly dumbfounded.

"…How many times have you been in my apartment?"

"With you? Twice~!"

"…and without me?"

"Hmmm, that's harder…maybe twenty, twenty-one? I usually go every morning before work when you're off with Ludwig, and then usually on my breaks when we're both working…Heh, it's getting harder to remember how many exactly!"

Alfred remained his usual, smiling self, beaming at Arthur as if he deserved a reward for breaking and entering so many times in just a week. Arthur, however, was _clearly_ not amused in the slightest.

"WHY THE BLEEDING FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN GOING INTO MY ROOM WHEN I'M NOT THERE?"

Blinking innocently, Alfred responded as if the answer should've been obvious, "I'm just trying to find out what your mission is, and where your gadgets are!"

Grinding his teeth, Arthur began rubbing his temples with his fingertips, hoping that maybe it would make some of the 'stupid American' out of his brain.

"I don't know whether to call you stupid, mental, or the king of stereotypes."

"Let's go with King of Stereotypes. That sounds like a hero's name!"

A low growl made its way out the Brit's mouth. "Listen here, twit! Just because I speak the Queen's English, does not mean I'm James freaking Bond! In fact, he never even existed except in movies and books!"

Alfred gasped in disbelief, his hands covering his ears. "Don't say such lies! James Bond is a hero!"

"A _fictional_ hero!"

"Stop saying villainous things!"

Rolling his eyes in immense exasperation, Arthur grumbled, "For the last bleeding time, Jones—I _am not_ a spy!"

A bit of Jones's cocky smirk returned as he retorted, "That's exactly what a spy _would_ say!"

"That's it! You're impossible!" yelled Kirkland, his patience finally running out for dealing with the American. He was about to storm back out through the kitchen when an incredibly tan man walked into the hallway, an aggravated look settling onto his face at the sight of Alfred.

Arthur could relate.

"Oi, Jones! I'm tired of covering for ya! End this lover's spat you're having with the newfag and get back to work!" Jones was about to respond when a soft meow came from the cat sleeping on top of the man thought to be unconscious on top of the boxes. "Karpusi's back here too? Get up ya stupid cat bastard!"

It seemed like the man was going to completely ignore the man, who Arthur assumed was Sadiq, when he mumbled, "Whoever thought up the name 'Turkish delights' had the worst sense of humor…"

"What the hell did you just say, Karpusi?"

"You heard me, Annan. You are a horror to work with."

In light of this new argument, Arthur forgot to be angry at Alfred (just barely), and was kind of glad that he wasn't quite yet as bitter to the American as these two men clearly were to each other. Turning slightly to Alfred, he asked about the scene before them.

"Are they always like this?" The Brit made sure his voice was low, yet loud enough that they couldn't hear, but Alfred could.

"Sadiq and Heracles? Hahaha," Alfred broke off to laugh softly as he pushed Arthur back into the kitchen and away from the now shouting men, "Pretty much, but surprisingly enough, they're actually best friends."

The Englishman resented being pushed out by his "arch-nemesis", but also didn't feel like starting another pointless and asinine argument about it. The one about spies had already aggravated him, and he didn't feel like becoming anymore like the supposed best friends they had just left in the back hallway. Having just fully entered the kitchen once more, Matt walked up to them, a worried expression on his face.

"Al! Is everything okay? We all heard yelling, and were hoping that Arthur wasn't killing you after all. Yao and Sadiq were betting you'd be dead, and Sadiq went to check, while Papa was positive you were fine for some reason…"

"'Tis because I know how a person's voice sounds when murder is their intent, _mon cher_." Arthur's face became even more unpleasant at the sound of the confident voice of the Frenchman walking up to them. Francis merely grinned at the Londoner before clapping a hand on Matthew's shoulder before asking, "However, I must inquire as to the nature of the yelling. It was almost loud enough to be heard by my customers."

"Sadiq and Heracles are still shouting, why don't you go stop them?" protested Arthur bitterly. He didn't want to confide in this man. He was the father of his source of annoyances for one thing. The other problem was he was French; nothing else need be added.

"_Oui_, but they do this all the time, and it is usual." Bonnefoy turned from Arthur to his son. "Alfred, what was happening?"

"Artie won't let me show him around like you told me too!"

"W-What? You never said you were told to show me around!" exclaimed Arthur, the anger sliding off his face a little as shock began to take over in light of the new facts.

"_Oui_, it is mandatory that all new employees be escorted around by a senior employee who volunteers. That volunteer becomes your 'mentor' so to speak." Bonnefoy paused to give Kirkland a smirk that made him hate the Frenchman more than his obnoxious son. "Alfred is your mentor. He volunteered before you'd even arrived here."

"Can't I change mentors?" requested the Brit hopefully, "Like to Ludwig or something?"

"Francis shrugged playfully, shaking his head. "I'm afraid not since Alfred has volunteered and Ludwig is far too busy to show you around. A change would be _impossible_."

A dawning expression of horror slowly spread across Arthur's face. Alfred, mistaking it for excitement, slung an arm around the slightly shorter man's shoulders and gave him a side-hug.

"Does this mean you'll finally let me show you around, Artie?" inquired the American, a giant smile on his face.

"I…I…"

Like the night he found out who Alfred was, Arthur was finding it difficult to articulate when it mattered.

"He shall have to if he wants to keep his job," added Francis, a smug look still in place.

Arthur was just about to object about how that was unfair, when he was out-outraged by his immediate boss: Gilbert.

"Hey, Francis, you can't fire Kirkland! He's my employee! _Ich_ hired him!"

There was a split second where Arthur could've sworn he saw anger in the Frenchman's eyes at the arrival of his friend and business partner, which was odd because the Londoner knew he hadn't seen anything like that when he'd first met his three bosses. The only thing that made any sense in correlation was the fact that Gilbert pushed Francis away to drape himself over Matthew's shoulders, but Bonnefoy composed himself too quickly for Arthur to have much of a reason to think about it at the moment.

"_Oui_, this is true, but the three of us, you, me, and Antonio, are in charge of this fine establishment together and have the ability to fire and hire whom we please!"

Having worked with the man for about a week now, Kirkland saw that Beilschmidt had seen the angry flash from his friend as well, and didn't deem this something to fight about. Which, in a way, was kind of belittling to Arthur, but he didn't blame Gilbert. Frogs were monstrous about holding grudges, and he clearly already was working on getting rid of one, he didn't need another.

So he conceded this win, and merely muttered, "_Schei__β__e_…"

This uttered curse seemed to brighten the Frenchman's face immediately, and he turned back to Arthur as if Gilbert had never arrived.

"Tomorrow is Monday, _oui_? Alfred will show you around in the morning before either of you work. _Comprenez-vous, Monsieur Sourcils_?"

Kirkland could only nod numbly as the current bane of his existence let out an excited, "Okay, Dad!" with a massively bright grin on his face.

"_Tr__è__s bien_!" Now get back to work, all of you!" Francis poked his head down towards the hallway slightly, "That includes you two! _Le travail maintenant, soutiennent plus tard_!"

Alfred patted the top of Arthur's head before walking back into the hallway to fetch Sadiq. "See ya tomorrow morning, Artie!" His back faced the Englishman as he yelled further, "Yo, Sadiq! Come on and get to work! You can bicker with your girlfriend another time!"

Too stunned to move, Arthur was left standing in the middle of the kitchen. Several things had just happened too fast for him, and he wasn't sure how to cope with it all. Not only did he have to go on the stupid tour with Jones, but if he ditched, he'd get fired!

He doubted he would have left the kitchen if Francis hadn't made Matthew escort him out for being in the way. Though Arthur could've sworn that the Frenchman looked triumphant as he left and not because he'd won the argument about the tour; Gilbert's frustrated look seemed to be the other half of the coin for the situation.

But the Londoner was too absorbed in the dilemma that was the next morning to care.

"Don't worry too much about the tour, Arthur," began Matthew as he led the way out of the side entrance of the kitchen so that they wouldn't walk through the customers, "Al is a good guy despite his apparent leniency with your personal life. He genuinely just wants to show you around!"

Arthur just gave Matthew a blank stare, and the younger man knew his words wouldn't be heeded even though they were true—mostly.

Standing in the hallway between the restaurant and the bar, Matthew let go of Kirkland and backed up a bit to signal his leaving, rolling his eyes when the Brit made no action to move out of the hallway.

"I'll leave you to your own devices, Arthur, but please don't hold my brother's obnoxiousness against him. He really is just doing what he thinks is right."

"…I'll try, Matthew," murmured the Englishman, deadpanned skepticism laced into his words. Matt sighed and went back into the kitchen, leaving Arthur to do as he pleased.

#######################

A/N: Was that okay? I've only been working on it for a couple weeks. I hope it's okay.

I feel really bad about being gone so long. I would keep thinking about it and work on it, but then not feel into the story.

(OMG, OPULENCE COMMERCIAL JUST PLAYED!)

Plus, I find I'm actually the most productive in class...when I'm supposed to be paying attention. Maybe it's just the whole allure of a desk? I think I should take up writing in the library at one of the little desk/cubicle things. I might get more done that way because I really do have a lot of time to work on it, I just never feel like it.

But I am already working on ch. 7 and hope to have it up soon! The Italies and Austria are FOR SURE in it! I can promise that much with a safe conscience. Um, ch. 7 might not be that long; I don't have much planned, but it may surprise me. The events were originally scheduled to be in ch. 6, but I just knew I needed to update for you guys so badly that I split it up.

I figured you wouldn't mind that much.

Can you see the PruCan? Can you?

Thanks for reading, sorry for the wait!

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TRANSLATIONS:

_Oui_ (French) - Yes

_Ich_ (German) - I

_Scheiβe _(German) - shit

_Comprenez-vous, Monsieur Sourcils_? (French) - Do you understand, Mr. Eyebrows?

_Très bien_! (French) - Very good!

_Le travail maintenant, soutiennent plus tard_! (French) - Work now, argue later!

###

Reviews will...well, they won't change Francis's mind about Arthur going on the tour with Alfred, so review knowing that USUK is inevitable!

How about you review to tell me what you thought happened to me. Be creative if you like. Favorite gets a mention/gift? IDK. I'll decide later.


	7. Entrée Housekeeping

Didn't take as long to do this one, and I'm happy~ :D I keep getting more reviews and more alerts! This all makes me so happy that people actually like my story! You guys have no idea!

I hope this one is better than ch. 6. It's longer if anything!

Disclaimer: Still own nothing except season 01 dub and now the first volume of the English manga! (except I haven't read it yet cuz it's at home...D: )

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Arthur remained still until he began to think he heard Alfred's voice coming towards him from inside the kitchen, and that boosted his brain enough to begin moving again. Shakily he made his way out of the hallway and towards the elevator, overall still very confused and stunned at the current events.

"I need to find Ludwig…" was the only real coherent thought the bewildered Brit could make as he rode the elevator back up to the floor he had been on with Ludwig earlier. He hoped to find him there, or at least find someone who knew where he was at the moment.

The doors dinged open, and Arthur was dismayed again to find that the hallway was completely empty.

"Oh, bugger," grumbled Arthur, a small frown settling onto his face, his eyebrows furrowing almost forming one giant fuzzy caterpillar. He didn't want to go back down to Ludwig's office without knowing the German was there. Waiting seemed like such a childish thing to do when what he wanted to discuss wasn't all that important. Then again, he really wanted to rant off his confusion before work.

Some god somewhere smiled down upon him, and sent a bellhop out of their room just then with the obvious intent to go down to work.

"U-Um, excuse me, chap?" The bellhop, who looked like he was barely of legal age but still had a head of shocking white hair, dully looked at Arthur as if he'd just said something incredibly ridiculous. "I-I'm sorry, but I'm looking for Ludwig, and I was wondering if you had perhaps seen him…recently…?"

"_J__á_, he came by to fix _bróðir_'s sink. He left when the maids came in and started bothering him. I think one of them knows where he went."

Kirkland was surprised that he had gotten an actual answer from the boy, and it caused him to smile a little, which in turn seemed to make the boy's face be a little less obscenely dull. It made Arthur feel better to know that there were people working alongside him that were decent humans.

"Ah, well do you know where they would be?"

"_Já_," the boy paused in his thoughts, and Arthur began to think he wasn't going to go on until the boy opened up his door again, "They're still inside. Make sure they don't forget to lock the door again. _Bróðir_ hates it when Mathias is able to walk in unannounced or to skip work."

The Englishman nodded, taken aback that the boy was just letting him into the apartment without knowing who he was!

"T-Thank you! I'm Arthur Kirkland, by the way."

"Hinrik Haugen. My _bróðir_'s name is Erik, but he is already downstairs. I'm sure you will meet him eventually."

Hinrik nodded at Arthur, and that was that.

Awkwardly, Arthur stepped into the room, glancing back out as if to make sure he wasn't in trouble before shutting the door gently behind him.

"H-Hello?" called out the Londoner hesitantly as he stood, out of place, in the entryway.

"_Sì_! We are back here!" replied a cheerful voice from a room in the back.

Cautiously, Arthur made his way back there, observing vaguely that Hinrik and his brother's apartment was bigger than his, with an added room or two as well, but he supposed two people needed more space than just one. Reaching the room of the apartment where the voice had come from, Arthur poked his head in, and instantly had trouble figuring out whether the room was being cleaned or destroyed.

"_Ciao_! You must be Arthur!" The maid with the cheery voice practically ran up to him, brown eyes shimmering brightly. "Ludwig has spoke of you very much! I am Feliciano Vargas!"

"A-Ah, a pleasure…" Arthur's eyes drifted off to where the other maid present was grumbling to himself as he cleaned…?

"You can just call me Feli though, everybody does!" Feliciano caught his gaze, and he kept smiling though even he seemed a little exasperated. "Ah! That is _mio grande fratello_, Lovino!"

The other maid glared up at the two of them so quickly that Arthur jumped back a little.

"Don't introduce me without asking me if I wanna be introduced, _stupido_ Feliciano!"

"L-Lovino…"

"N-Not to intrude, but I...could either of you tell me where Ludwig went?"

"Who cares where that dumbass potato-eater went? For all I care, he can go fall off the top of the building!"

"Lovino! That isn't a nice thing to say about Ludwig!"

"Don't care. I hate that damn kraut _bastardo_!"

Feliciano pouted a little at his older siblings, but was smiling again when he turned back to Arthur.

"Ludwig went to talk to Roddy and Liza while we cleaned Hinrik's room." The younger Italian leaned closer to whisper in a conspirator-like fashion, "Lovi and Ludwig don't do well around each other, you see."

The Brit nodded because that much he had gathered from the way Lovino had talked at the mere mention of the German.

"Uh, well, could you tell me where they are? I need to speak with Ludwig about…something…"

"_S__ì_! Of course!" Feliciano looked over towards his brother, "Want to come along, _fratello_?"

"Why the hell would I want to go with you to see that damnable potato-freak?" growled Lovino as he continued to…work.

His brother shrugged before smiling brightly and grabbing Arthur's hand to lead him out of the room. It happened so quickly, that the Londoner didn't have time to say anything about locking the door behind them.

-_La Tortuga de Oro_-

The Italian led him down to the first floor and over to the offices, passing Ludwig's and going further down the hallway to where Arthur vaguely remembered Gilbert saying housekeeping was located.

"Are we almost there?" asked Arthur, who was grateful to Feliciano, but was also extremely on being dragged around. Not to mention the speed at which Feliciano chattered away was somehow making the Englishman sick to his stomach.

"_S__ì_! We is almost to Roddy's office!"

Kirkland was about to ask who exactly was this 'Roddy', when they stopped outside of the office at the end of the hall, and before Feliciano could knock, a male German-accented voice beat him to it.

"Feliciano!" The door swung open to reveal a dark haired man with a little curl akin to that of Feliciano and his brother's, and deep purple eyes. "Why aren't you upstairs _mit deinem Bruder_?"

"Ve~ Roddy! Don't yell! Arthur wanted to see Ludwig, so I was just helping him! _Mio fratello_ is still working~!" The younger of the Italian brothers finally let go of Arthur's wrist to fully gesticulate his troubles to the man before them. Judging by the frustrated look on the Germanic man, he was not impressed with Feliciano's tale.

"Knowing that Lovino is by himself on the job is not very comforting, Felicano."

"B-But Arthur—!"

"Wait," began a female voice from within the office. The man admonishing Feliciano found himself pushed aside, and a woman came to take her place. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her green eyes were shining with excitement. "So you're Arthur Kirkland, huh?"

Arthur glanced between the woman and the frowning man who was still visible behind the woman. He nodded slowly, "T-The one and the same, mum."

Sure, he'd been at Tortuga for about a week now, but it was still a little dumbfounding to still be finding people who he hadn't met and still knew about him. Before today, the only member of housekeeping he'd met was the an easily angered blonde man, who had the uncanny ability to hold anything and everything like it was a weapon and if you pissed him off he was _not_ afraid to use it as such.

Needless to say, Arthur always left his apartment whenever that particular maid arrived.

"Oh~! It's wonderful to finally meet you Arthur! I'm Elizaveta Héderváry, the deputy housekeeper." She was reaching out to shake his hand before he even knew they were going to be shaking hands. "Alfred has told me so much about you!"

Kirkland's green eyes narrowed at the mention of the American. "If he's been spouting nonsense about my being a spy, it's all a load of bollocks."

Elizaveta gave a hearty laugh as she released Arthur's hand and walked back into the office to sit on the corner of the desk. The man sighed and went to stand behind his desk, leaving the door open so that Arthur and Feliciano could enter. Shutting the door behind him, Arthur saw that Ludwig was just standing off to the side as if he wasn't sure what was going on at the moment.

Arthur knew how he felt.

"Arthur, Arthur—you obviously haven't been here long if you think people still believe everything that exits Alfred's big mouth. Of course no one here _really_ thinks you're a spy!" Her eyes were kind, though amused, and to some extent it did make Arthur feel better that there wasn't going to be a whole group of coworkers bothering him about his 'missions' or 'gadgets' or other things of equal ludicrous levels.

"M-My apologies, mum…"

"Don't worry about it, _kedvesem_." She smiled at him again, and though he had no idea what she had just called him, he didn't think it was a bad thing. Also, he couldn't help but get the feeling that she knew something about him that he didn't even know yet, and that in itself, was unnerving.

"Ahem," the man behind the desk brought all the attention back to him, "I'm afraid Elizaveta has deviated from what the conversation should be." He met Arthur's eyes, his own behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. "I'm Roderich Edelstein, the head housekeeper here. It is nice to meet you Mr. Kirkland."

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, sir." The word Arthur had always been in the habit of adding to his sentences when speaking to his superiors seemed to raise Roderich's esteem of him. The Brit tried not to smile; at least there were some proper gentlemen in this place. Ludwig was an incredibly polite man, but Arthur had seen from his interactions with his older brother that he was far from gentleman caliber.

Roderich turned to Feliciano, who was standing in between Arthur and Ludwig, but more towards the German as if he was trying to slowly creep up on him. "Now, Feliciano, you have helped Mr. Kirkland find Ludwig. Please return to work and _deinem Bruder_ so as to make sure nothing like...last time happens."

The Italian met his boss's eyes reluctantly, cowering immediately. It was obvious that Feliciano wanted to stay; his body language screamed that he wanted nothing more than to hide from Roderich by taking shelter behind Ludwig. He, however, continued to meet Roderich's eyes until he bowed his head in defeat.

"_S-S__ì_. I will go back to _mio fratello_." He looked over to Arthur, and smiled softly, "_Ciao_, Arthur! I will see you later!"

The Englishman nodded and smiled back at the Italian man, giving him a small wave as he opened the door and began to walk out. Apparently he changed his mind at the last minute and ran back in and quickly went over to Ludwig to hug him tightly.

It all happened so fast, but the only people who seemed to be taken aback by this action were Arthur and Ludwig, the latter quickly getting over it. Awkwardly hugging Feliciano back, Ludwig mumbled softly, "F-Feliciano, you need to go back to work and check up on Lovino, okay?"

Arthur's mind was blown by not only the fact that Ludwig's cheeks were beginning to blush, but also the gentle and comforting way he was talking with Feliciano. Again, Arthur seemed to be the only one who even cared about the German's abnormal behavior.

"_S__ì_! Ludwig is right,_ naturalmente_!" Feliciano's bright smile was back as he let go of Ludwig and left the room for good this time, waving goodbye to everyone.

As the door shut behind Feliciano, Arthur finally noticed something that he knew he would've noticed if he hadn't been so preoccupied with his frustration at Jones: All of the maids wore dresses. All of them had been male.

He was just about to inquire about this when Roderich interrupted him.

"So, _was ist es_ you wanted with Ludwig?"

Arthur stared blankly at him until Elizaveta coughed lightly into her hand, a small grin on her face as she brought the Englishman back from his bewildered trance. He glanced at her momentarily before meeting Roderich's eyes. "I just wanted to talk to him about something, but if you are talking business, I'll just wait until you're done, sir..."

Ludwig, for the first time since arriving, met Arthur's eyes, letting him know that he had gotten the hint that it was a request for the German to listen to another rant from the Londoner. Nodding in acceptance, Ludwig said, "We have a few more things to go over, but you can go wait in my office and I'll arrive in a few minutes."

Giving a little smile to Ludwig, Arthur nodded and was about to say his goodbyes when a wail came from the hallway: "_BRRRRUUUUUDDDEEEEERRRRRR_!"

The younger Beilschmidt had just enough time to sigh and hold his head with one hand before Gilbert came barreling into Roderich's office and latched himself onto his little brother. Hanging off his neck, Gilbert just made whining noises, waiting for his brother to comfort him.

"_Was zur Hölle ist es dieses Mal_, Gilbert?" groaned Ludwig as he tried not to buckle under the sudden extra weight his brother was providing.

"Francis is undermining my authority~!"

Rolling his eyes, Ludwig grumbled, "He can't undermine your authority when you are business partners and have equal power over the entire corporation."

"But it was Tony and mine's idea! He didn't even wanna do it until we told him he could do whatever he wanted with the restaurant! And now he's becoming a jerk who threatens to fire the people I hire if they don't do the stupid tour with his _dummen _son!"

Meeting his brother's red eyes, Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "I'm assuming you are not speaking of Matthew when you say this?"

Gilbert snorted and let go of his brother as if he'd just said the most offensive thing on earth. "_Natürlich_, I don't mean Matt! Matt _ist sehr toll_. Al _ist sehr dumm_. Everyone knows that, _ja_?"

"_Ja, aber Bruder,_ _über wen redest du_?"

"Eh? Arthur hasn't told you yet?" Gilbert looked over his shoulder at the stunned Englishman, and then back at his little brother. "He has to go on the tour with Alfred tomorrow or get fired by Francis, _Herr Kaiser _of fun-suckery."

"That is no way to speak of Francis, Gilbert." All eyes turned to Roderich, who was frowning at the brothers now as if they'd done something completely rude. Arthur couldn't help but agree, but it wasn't annoying him as badly as it was the head of housekeeping.

For the first time, Gilbert seemed to fully realize where he was. He grinned cockily at Roderich and said, "Heya Roddy! I didn't know you were here!"

"Gilbert, this is my office, and please don't call me that."

"This can't be your office! If it was then she'd be—"

"But I am here Beilschmidt. It's not my fault you have poor observation skills." Gilbert seemed to pale at the sight of Elizaveta, and did as Feliciano was wanting to do earlier, and hid behind his brother.

"I don't know what you're talking about Héderváry, my observation skills are _awesome_. You're just so ugly that my eyes automatically skipped over you."

"What did you just call me, you _önközpontú__rakás szar_?"

Suddenly Arthur wanted very much to be out of the office. Elizaveta and Gilbert were practically nose to nose, shouting obscenities at each other, and it looked like Elizaveta was reaching for something behind her on the desk to hit Gilbert with. Ludwig seemed to be torn between preventing the fight and just watching.

"Will you two please stop this childish nonsense?" Everyone, once again, turned to look at Roderich who was standing there, frowning still, though he seemed vastly more exasperated this time.

"Roderich…" murmured both Elizaveta and Gilbert at the same time, exchanging glares immediately after doing so.

Edelstein sighed, rubbing his temple with one hand before saying, "Ludwig, we'll discuss those matters later. It isn't imperative at the moment. Please take Mr. Kirkland and your brother with you."

Ludwig nodded at Roderich before grabbing both Gilbert and Arthur's arms and leading them out of the office and down the hall to his own. As they left, it was relatively easy to hear Elizaveta's continued rants about Gilbert and Roderich's failed attempts to calm her down.

When they reached Ludwig's office, Gilbert wrenched himself from his brother's hold and stomped away back towards Dragonfly. Arthur and Ludwig watched silently before the Londoner found himself ushered into the German's office.

"Ludwig, what just happened?" asked Arthur the moment the door was closed.

The two friends met eyes before Ludwig sighed again, and gestured for Arthur to take a seat as he walked over to his desk and sat down himself.

"What just happened, Arthur, is part of the reason why I get headaches," growled the German as he massaged his head as Roderich had been doing. He looked up so that he knew he had Arthur's attention, and then looked away again to focus on something on his desk. "…Roderich and Gilbert used to…_be together_…"

Arthur blinked. He hadn't been anticipating that one.

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A/N: OMG MAI BAD. IS THAT A CLIFFIE-ISH-LIKE-THING?

8D

Yeah. I was going to go on, but then I liked ending it here so much better. Suspense, ya know.

I just wanna thank butty-chan for correcting my German! I messaged you before I finished the chapter, but you hadn't responded yet, so I'm gonna chalk it up to time difference and just wait for you to correct me anyway! On that note, if I butcher your native language, for God's sake, please correct me. Any knowledge is welcome. I'm only fluent in English, and I mess up event that a lot.

So help is always welcome!

Hey, hey, did you see the continued hints of PruCan? YEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH.

Oh, and translate stuff yourself. Unless you want me to put it down here. Let me know. (EDIT: It has finally been requested, so I deliver! :D )

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TRANSLATIONS:

_Já_ (Icelandic) - Yes

_bróðir_ (Icelandic) - brother

_Sì_ (Italian) - yes

_Ciao_ (Italian) - hello/goodbye

_mio grande fratello_ (Italian) - my big brother

_stupido_ (Italian) - stupid

_bastardo_ (Italian) - bastard

_mit deinem Bruder_ (German) - with your brother

_kedvesem_ (Hungarian) - darling/my dear

_naturalmente_ (Italian) - naturally/of course

_was ist es_ (German) - what is it

"_Was zur Hölle ist es dieses Mal_, Gilbert?" (German) - What the hell is it this time, Gilbert?

_dummen_ (German) - stupid/dumb

_Natürlich_ (German) - naturally/of course

Matt _ist sehr toll_. Al _ist sehr dumm_. (German) - Matt is very great/awesome. Al is very stupid.

"_Ja, aber Bruder, über wen redest du_?" (German) - Yes, but brother, who are you talking about?

_Herr Kaiser_ (German) - Mr. Emperor

_önközpontú rakás szar_ (Hungarian) - self-centered piece of shit

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_

Reviews make me work faster and me working faster make you happy. I gotta go eat with my friend's at an Italian restaurant.

Let me know how my Iceland is. He feels too Norway-ish to me.

And I separated all my drabbles into one-shots, so you can now go look at them and immediately see if you wanna read them. Go look please? Also, a new one will be up later today or tomorrow and it will be USUK!

BYYEEEEE~!


	8. Realizations Abound

This update mainly is just to satisfy those who were not expecting the PruAus hints at the end of the last chapter. Fret not lovers of PruCan, there is some of that to compensate.

I did mean to update on Friday because that was my birthday, but I couldn't bring myself to finish the chapter despite having it all planned out. I started it, but then didn't feel like finishing. Hopefully ch. 9 will come out faster! (It's planned out too!)

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even my life-I have the sinking suspicion that the government secretly has the rights... D:

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"They used to be what?"

"I believe I spoke very clearly, Arthur."

"W-Well, yeah, but what—I mean why—I mean…_how_?"

Ludwig just looked down, resting his head in his hands as if he did already have a headache. Arthur decided he could wait patiently for his friend to give him the answer he desired, but the German had no such plans.

"It's not that I can't explain—_Gott_ knows that Gilbert only came to me for every little problem—but I'd honestly rather you go bother _mein Bruder_ about it."

Kirkland raised an eyebrow in confusion; Ludwig would start this conversation and then not even bother to answer a single question? That was unlike him.

"Why don't you want to talk about it, Ludwig?"

A soft, exasperated sigh left the younger Beilschmidt. "One, it's my brother's story to begin with; two, the story in itself gives me headaches from the memories; and three," he looked up at the Englishman with a weary look, "Three, I have a lot of work to do before Roderich calls me in to see him again, and the man likes to go on and on about the tiniest things."

"I guess I can talk to you about what happened later, then…?" Arthur tried to keep the questioning tone out of his voice. There couldn't be any real way he had become dependent on his new source of venting.

…Could there?

Despite only knowing the Brit for a week, Ludwig could tell that Arthur did really want to talk about the issue about the tour, and Arthur could tell that Ludwig was sorry, but honestly didn't have the time.

"Later would be excellent. I'll probably need a break by the time you get off work, so you may call or drop by then if you wish."

"Really? You're going to be up that late?"

Ludwig gave the Londoner a look that pretty much said it all without his spoken words, "I may just be the maintenance head, Arthur, but I assure you. I'm doing the paperwork of about five or six people every day. Besides, Gilbert's always obnoxiously loud whenever he gets in after leaving the bar, so I wouldn't be able to sleep regardless of already being awake."

Yes that was all also in that single look. Little known fact—Germans are that talented with their facial expressions. (The more you know.)

The Englishman nodded, "I understand. I'll probably stop by before going on up to bed."

"Very well. _Bis sp__ä__ter_, Arthur."

It was only mildly annoyed that Arthur left Ludwig's office with a cordial wave of his hand, closing the door slowly behind him before letting a thoughtful scowl fall over his face.

-_La Tortuga de Oro_-

Sitting on the couch before his TV, nursing a small glass of gin, Arthur couldn't help but spend the few hours before work thinking about the information he'd gathered that day.

It was relatively difficult to comprehend the obnoxious, vain, and ultimately rude Gilbert with anyone, man or woman, like Roderich. Sure, that was the first time Arthur had even met the man, but he still gave off the appearance of being completely opposite of the older Beilschmidt brother. Perhaps the only thing they did have in common was the fact they both spoke German. Arthur sure as hell couldn't think of any other connection.

Now don't misunderstand, Kirkland had nothing against people who "swung" that way, but he just hadn't figured his immediate boss to be one of them. He just didn't act the part.

Stereotypes or not, Gilbert came off as a very straight man to the Englishman, an effect that he doubted would stop until he saw the German doing something, well, _gay_.

With a small sigh, he supposed he had no choice but to just wait until after his shift was done that night to ask anything of either of the Beilschmidt brothers.

-_La Tortuga de Oro_-

His shift at the bar seemed to take infinitely longer than it usually did. Not only was he getting more and more curious about the whole Gilbert and Roderich affair, but as the night wore on, the Englishman was beginning to really want to talk to his friend about the tour dilemma.

The moment the last customer was made to leave, Gilbert almost immediately turned to Arthur, far before the Brit was even near ready to begin his own line of questioning, and demanded, "You've been twitchy all night long, Kirkland. Seriously, what's eating ya? If it's that damn tour situation then go talk to _mein Bruder_ right now."

A little dumbfounded at being caught, Arthur stammered, "T-That's not quite it, sir…"

Gilbert rolled his red eyes. "Then what the hell is it, Kirkland?"

"Ludwig told me that…that you and…" Arthur closed his eyes, and took a deep breath before finishing quickly. "!"

The older Beilschmidt stared at his subordinate until he managed to decipher what he'd said, and burst out laughing.

"That's it, kid? _That's_ why you've been weird all night? Not because you're going to have to endure a grueling couple of hours with that fucking annoying brat of Bonnefoy's? The things you focus on, Kirkland! Kesesesesesese~."

Arthur found himself just staring at his boss, mainly in disbelief. "You know, sir, most people don't act so calmly when someone confronts them about something of this nature."

"Oh yeah, Kirkland?" began Gilbert, raising an eyebrow at his employee, "Well, I ain't most people. What is it about me and Roddy you wanted to know?"

"Truthfully? I was kind of wondering how the two of you even came together in the first place. Pardon me saying it, but you two aren't exactly the most compatible couple."

"Kesesese! You could say that again! Why do you think Roddy and I didn't last more than a month? Roddy couldn't stop complaining about everything, and it was getting pretty goddamn annoying!" Gilbert met Arthur's eyes. "If you learn one thing from me, kid, make it this: Never date an Austrian. Bastards are OCD as hell."

The Londoner could only nod his agreement.

"But as to how we got together, it was sort of an accident, spur of the moment sort of thing. Our fling was back close to when we first opened the hotel, and I happened to be the one to interview and hire Roddy. He was less uptight then, and a hell of a lot cuter." Beilschmidt sighed and shrugged. "But, then Elizaveta showed up, and Roddy fell out of like with me and into love with her. We fought more than anything, and I just figured it was the best option for everyone at _Tortuga_ if we stopped pretending like we actually wanted to be together anymore."

"That's…surprisingly mature of you, sir."

"Hmph, that's what Lud said too. Still don't know what you two are implying; I'm plenty mature when I want. Being immature is just far more awesome." Gilbert leaned against the bar, a little grin growing on his face. "Anyway, Roddy and I broke up, and he starting dating Elizaveta. No hard feelings though, they work, and I've found someone else anyway, who also conveniently works here too."

Now Arthur was the one to raise an eyebrow, "R-Really? Who?"

"Eh? You haven't noticed? Can't say I'm surprised, though. You're still kind of a newb here." His grin widening significantly, he declared, "I'm dating Mattie. Don't you remember the way Francis glared at me? He can't stand the fact that I'm with his _petit gar__ç__on_."

The Englishman was beginning to wonder if that day would ever stop throwing him for a loop.

"W-Well, I can't say I exactly blame Bonnefoy—from a father's perspective at least. You can be quite a foul person, sir, if you don't mind me saying."

"Kesesesesese~! _Nein_, I don't mind at all, kid." Clamping a hand on the Brit's shoulder, Gilbert smirked a little as he added, "Why don't you go bother Lud before I regal you with stories of Mattie and me? I'm sure you'd much rather bitch to Lud about your budding unresolved sexual tension with Alfred than listen to me manly gush about my awesome boyfriend."

Feeling himself grow incredibly red in the face, Arthur frowned at his boss. "I _do not_ have unresolved sexual tensions with Jones!"

Gilbert just laughed as he pushed Arthur out of the area behind the bar. "Kesesese, that's why they're unresolved, kid. Now go complain to _mein Bruder_."

Arthur truthfully didn't want to depart from Gilbert until he got through to his boss that he had no feelings, sexual or otherwise, towards Jones other than perhaps severe annoyance and dislike, but was not given the chance because how ungentlemanly would it seem if he ran back after his boss, declaring such things for the whole hotel to hear?

It would be a disaster, especially if the man in question himself heard such uncouth things.

Despite himself, Arthur was beginning to find more and more sense in the Frenchman's dislike of his son dating such a man as Gilbert Beilschmidt.

However, in light of the conversation, distasteful or otherwise, Arthur couldn't help but continue the train of thought as he walked down to Ludwig's office, and the smallest part of the Englishman was beginning to wonder what would happen if Alfred's sexual orientation was that of his brother's.

Arthur himself, whilst not being exactly the most outgoing of his brothers, and never being quite the ladies' man himself, wasn't ashamed to admit he might have been with a guy or two, but nothing anywhere near a relationship quality. One night here or there, mainly just so he could say whether it was for him or not. When his brother, Duncan, had found out about his dabbling, he got made fun of for weeks until Bran told Duncan to belt up. So Duncan stopped, but by that time, both Seamus and Sheridan had picked up the act, and the twin gingers were incredibly obstinate when it came to ridiculing their "baby" brother.

Shaking himself from the small nostalgia trip, not exactly desiring to relive the long months during which his older siblings mocked him for being a 'nancy boy', Arthur brought his attention back to the main point—if Alfred was gay.

Though reluctant to do so, Arthur couldn't exactly deny the fact that the American was rather good looking, regardless of his blatant personality flaws. Jones seemed to be the stereotypical good-looking boy of any girl's dreams: blonde hair, blue eyes, well-built, but Arthur wasn't a girl. He was a man, albeit a man who wasn't the straightest, but he wouldn't go so far as to call himself homosexual. As Bran had said to finally shut up their siblings, _"Arthur's just a bit bicurious, so shut the bloody fuck up. You'll all do it, or…something."_

So what if Alfred was perhaps mildly handsome? That doesn't mean that the Londoner found the American attractive in particular. Personality was more important in a prospective partner than looks to Arthur, so where the hell was Gilbert getting this completely _barmy_ idea of 'unresolved sexual tension'?

Okay, sure they might fight a bit like a married couple whenever they see each other.

And Alfred had the horrible habit of breaking into his room, apparently when he wasn't even there.

And Arthur himself ranted about the boy in length to Ludwig.

And Alfred apparently talked to others about him in excruciating detail.

And Arthur shook his head to prevent that particular line of thought any further.

"I need to talk to Ludwig more than I thought," grumbled the Londoner as he walked knocked on said German's door, and waited for his admittance.

####################

A/N: Not necessarily a big update, but the next chapter should be. It'll also contain the tour~

However, there were the beginnings of USUK in this chapter~ :D

Plus we finally a little inside look at the workings of Arthur's life before America! ZOMG.

So I'll explain a little about my version of Arthur's family now.

Bran is Wales, and since what little I actually know about the Welsh, they've got deep roots, so I made him the oldest.

Next is Duncan , who is Scotland and obviously likes to pick on Arthur (even though Arthur is older than him).

Then there's Seamus (Ireland) and Sheridan (North Ireland), who are twins, boy and girl respectively. (I believe there were rumors about N. Ireland being a girl officially or something anyway.)

And naturally the youngest is Peter, who will, but hasn't yet, appeared.

On another note, did I bring about the "answer" to Iggy's sexual orientation well? Just curious on what you guys think about that.

[EDIT: I changed it so that it now goes-Wales, Scotland, N. Ireland & Ireland, England, and then Sealand. It's more canon, and really I had it as listed above because I forgot Arthur was supposed to be the youngest besides Sealand. MY. BAD. Anyway, fixed now, even though it's not like anyone mentioned or cared.]

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TRANSLATIONS:

_Gott_ (German) - God

_Bis sp__ä__ter_ (German) - Until later

_petit gar__ç__on_ (French) - little boy

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_

My question for my lovely reviewers is this: In the event that Greece gets featured somewhat often, who do you want him to be with? Turkey or Japan? Either way, he's going to be BFF with both, just one slightly more reluctant.

Review to let me know your thoughts! Mainly just so I can hint at whatever pairing gets the most votes.

Reviews also help Ludwig with his headache.

P.S. If you were curious about any of the translations in previous chapters, I'd gone back and added them for all of them. If I forgot to translate a word, make sure it isn't translated in another chapter before messaging me and informing me of my mistake.

P.S.S. Did I get all my German right, butty-chan? D:


	9. And So It Begins

I FAIL AT UPDATING. SORRY.

This isn't even a good update. It's like 1/3 of what it was supposed to be, but because of something I will elaborate on at the end, I had to cut it short just so I could tell you about it.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. :(

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Currently the Englishman was having a nightmare. In it, he was in the company of Alfred and he was _enjoying it_.

A nightmare, indeed, so vividly horrid that he jerked awake shouting out, "Alfred!"

To his further horror, someone responded with laughter.

Slowly panning his head to the right, Arthur jumped violently when he saw the American kneeling next to his bed, face down on the sheets on the account he was laughing too hard to sit up properly.

All because Arthur had just woken up shouting the boy's name out as if he'd just had one of _those_ dreams.

"Bleeding hell," groaned the Brit, burying his face in his hands, but really wanting to crawl under the covers like a small child. This was _not_ what he needed to happen after his lengthy and trying conversation with Ludwig.

Despite being his one true friend in this abominable place, Ludwig had sided with his older brother from the start. The German even tried to get Arthur to "acknowledge" his possible "feelings" for the boy.

Therefore, Arthur had spent the five minutes up to his apartment cursing Germans with every pirate curse he could think, all the while trying to ignore the quick flashes of various pictures of Alfred that his mutinous mind kept conjuring.

It was needless to say, that waking up to Alfred after dreaming about him (tame though it was) and after the conversations of the night before, the Englishman had a most prominent blush upon his face.

The fact that Alfred had yet to stop laughing and was unbearably close helped none at all.

"Shut up, twit! It's not what you're thinking at all!" growled Arthur, finally raising his head from his heads so that he could smack the American's head.

Alfred clutched his head gingerly, a few chuckles still issuing forth as he lifted his eyes to meet Arthur's green ones, his own blue ones filled with mirth.

"Oh? What exactly was I thinking, Artie?"

The Brit opened and closed his mouth, blush darkening marginally. Was the twit actually _flirting_ with him? Not good, not good, not good, not good, not good, not good, not good, not good—

"S-Something idiotic and false I'm sure! Now why are you here?"

Arthur almost swore he saw a flash of disappointment in Alfred's eyes, but any trace of it disappeared as the boy's face lit up at Kirkland's question.

"I came to get you for the tour, duh!"

Shutting his eyes tightly, Arthur groaned in frustration. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten about the thing that had been the bane of his entire existence the whole previous day.

"Blimey, right, but did you have to wake me up?"

"I didn't." The American grinned, winking at Arthur. "At least, real me didn't; who knows what dream me was doing that made you jerk awake like that~."

"Nothing bloody happened, you wanker! You don't even know that it was about you!" Crossing his arms, Arthur looked away from his tormentor. "W-What if it was about another Alfred I know?"

Playfully, Alfred nudged the Londoner's knee, making the man look back at him.

"But it _was_ about me, right?"

"I…I plead the fifth of your damnable Bill of Rights," grumbled Arthur as he refused to meet Alfred's eyes. This just made the American laugh, and it made Arthur question his decision to leave London.

"Haha, alright Artie, alright." Alfred stood up and leaned lazily on the bedpost by the foot of the bed. "Get dressed and we'll grab breakfast on our way to the basement to begin the tour."

"F-Fine." Arthur lingered under his blankets for a few more seconds before gathering enough nerves to toss them aside and stand up to march past Alfred to his closet. He didn't know why he was so nervous. He was wearing shorts and a shirt. He did know that he desperately wanted to beat to a pulp the small part of him that had wanted Alfred to make a physical move on him as he passed him.

This quasi-attraction shit needed to stop.

When the Englishman came out of his closet (literally, not metaphorically, damnit!), he was a little annoyed to see that Alfred was exactly where he'd left him.

"I say, why are you still in my room, Jones? Sod off so I can get dressed!"

Alfred blinked innocently at him, focusing briefly on the clothes Arthur had in his hands.

"Why didn't you change in the closet? I know from experience that it's big enough."

It took a little bit for Arthur to chastise himself for thinking Alfred's experiences included anything but getting dressed.

Scowling, softened as it was by his blush, the Englishman muttered, "My dresser is out here, so I have to come out here to get clean boxers…"

The American looked behind him at the dresser and grinned. Chucking lightly, he pushed off the bed post and as he passed Arthur to get to the door, he whispered, "Choose the blue-striped ones. They're the cutest~."

The door shut before Arthur's brain could catch up to spit out a retort. Curious though, the Brit watched the door as he walked over to his dresser and opened his underwear drawer.

His pair of blue-striped boxers was sitting on the top as if they'd always been that obvious.

"Th-That bloody wanker!"

What frustrated him more was that he actually wanted to wear them now because they _were_ incredibly comfortable, but forced himself to pick up the plain black pair next to them.

Arthur Kirkland would be damned if he wore the boxers "chosen" for him by that damned American.

When he was done getting dressed, the Londoner left his room to find Alfred sitting over on the couch before his TV. Upon hearing the door open, the young man turned his head and smiled before practically jumping up and herding Arthur to the front door, babbling about how much fun the tour was going to be, and only just letting the man lock his door before shoving him to the elevator.

The Englishman was foolishly beginning to think that Alfred had forgotten the boxers thing, but once again the American showed how much he loved to publicly prove him wrong.

They were almost to the second floor when Alfred popped his question, stage whispering to Arthur, "You chose the black boxers, didn't you?"

Arthur felt like all the other passengers were watching him. Blushing profusely, the Londoner punched Alfred's shoulder, frowning, but he could tell he wasn't that intimidating at the moment.

Either that or Jones smiled brightly at everyone he pissed off, as if hoping they'd forgive him immediately.

"I did not, you git, and I would implore you to not discuss such crude matters in public places!" Kirkland turned back to the other passengers, not meeting anyone's eyes. "I'm sorry for the audacity of my companion."

Awkward murmurs rose from the passengers, in general accepting the apology. Alfred then leaned in closer so that his mouth was right by Arthur's ear.

"You're soooo wearing the black ones~," he whispered softly so that only Arthur could hear him this time.

Sputtering incoherently, Arthur just blushed more and stepped away from the American, who just straightened up, grinning.

Kirkland was definitely beginning to loathe the American and his country.

-_La Tortuga de Oro_-

Things didn't really get better when they stopped by the kitchen to get some breakfast, either.

Gilbert grinned from his place next to Matthew, who was busy flipping some pancakes, and Francis just seemed to be rather pleased with torturing the Brit.

Alfred managed to just continue acting as if nothing was maybe changing between the two of them. Granted, Arthur didn't necessarily _want_ anything to change, but the jerk could at least acknowledge the fact that he was being…weird.

Watching the American pester his much calmer brother for more maple syrup, Arthur retracted that mental statement.

He would much rather the boy didn't say anything out loud. The elevator scene had been bad enough.

Because he didn't want any sort of relationship with the American, and he wasn't going to believe anyone who told him otherwise, even if it was Ludwig.

Ludwig could be wrong, right?

The very thought made the Londoner sigh with remorse as he watched Alfred and Matthew break out into a maple syrup fight, with Gilbert cheering from the sidelines.

This was going to be a long day.

-_La Tortuga de Oro_-

After Francis had had to come over to break up the fight between his sons, Alfred and Arthur were banished from the kitchen until lunchtime, so they headed down to the basement to start the tour.

"Down here in the basement, we have the laundry room for all the tenants and employees, and the awesome entertainment room!"

Arthur was going to make a skeptical remark about how "awesome" the entertainment allegedly was, but when he actually followed Alfred into the room, he discovered it truly was, well, spectacular.

It was the entertainment room of kings. There were at least two giant roll down projection screens for movies, with a few rows of cushy chairs to imitate the theater. In a little sectioned off area was another giant screen with practically every game console a pubescent boy would crave, with a library of games that simply made Arthur stare. He wasn't much of a gamer, but some of his brothers had been rather into it. He at least knew the goldmine he was staring at.

Further back in another section was everything else—the billiard tables and the arcade. There were even a couple vending machines in case people were too lazy to walk up to their rooms just to get a drink.

"I must say, Americans do know how to entertain themselves," mumbled the Englishman as he continued to drink in the sights the room offered. He was still reeling from the sheer knowledge of how long he could distract his siblings down here if they were living here with him.

"That we do, Artie. Now how about I show you the one area down here that you're actually going to use?" Alfred immediately led the way out of the entertainment room, which had been surprisingly empty even considering the early hour, and just down the hall to where the laundry room awaited.

A little offended, Arthur followed in a bit of a huff. "Are you implying that I don't know how to have fun, Jones?"

"Artie, you wouldn't know fun if it was belly dancing naked in front of you." The American gestured around the room, washers and dryers lining the walls, grinning a little as though he hadn't just said anything detrimental to the Brit. "The policy is bring your own stuff, but other than that it's completely free."

Ignoring the information about the room, as helpful as it actually was, Kirkland focused on the main point: the jab at his ability to have fun.

"Excuse me, Jones, but I don't think you really know me well enough to judge whether I know how to have fun or not. I've known you for a week, and you've buggered the crap out of me the whole time."

Alfred just stared at him with an oblivious smile.

"Oh yeah? Then tell me what you did that was so fun when I wasn't bothering you, Artie. Tell me what it is you do for fun."

Raising his finger in defense, Arthur realized the damned American had a valid point after all.

"I—I do plenty of fun things, but they're just things other people wouldn't consider fun!"

"Mmmhmmm. I think you need to pick up more interesting hobbies than needlework, Artie. People are going to start thinking you're an old lady in disguise."

"Doing my needlework calms me down, which is more than I can say about being in your abominable presence!"

But again, Alfred managed to just ignore him and walked off a little bit further into the laundry room to an area Arthur was pretty sure for employees only.

"This is where the maids do their laundry. They have bigger machines because they naturally have more they need to get done." As they walked into the room, Arthur saw that this time they weren't alone. Three of their coworkers were actually doing their jobs, though how efficient they were being was debatable. "Oh, hey Yong Soo, Katya, Vash!"

"Alfred!" exclaimed the woman, who was the first to comprehend the intrusion upon their…work. She had short light blonde hair that was held back with a headband, and her blue eyes seemed unusually watery. Arthur had the sinking suspicion that it might be because one of the other maids was holding a gun to the head of the last maid.

It didn't take much for Arthur to recognize the gun-wielding maid as the very one that cleaned his room. Unwillingly, the proud Englishman found himself hiding a little behind Jones, who seemed to see this scene as an everyday event.

It probably was.

"What do you want, Jones? We're busy here!" demanded the maid with the gun. He had short blonde hair and incredibly sharp green eyes. He was scarier than Arthur had ever seen him before, though it didn't seem to really bother anyone besides him and the woman. Even his coworker that he was holding at gunpoint didn't seem too perturbed.

In fact the Asian man was just spouting off nonsense about Korea.

"Haha I was just showing Artie here around; if y'all are busy, we can just leave."

"T-That may be for the best, Alfred," said the woman softly, still looking like she was about to burst into tears.

"It was nice meeting you…" murmured Arthur as he quickly left the room before Alfred, who was staying back a little to speak to the woman, who smiled appreciatively at him.

_Flirtatious bastard, _thought Arthur bitterly, scowling even harder right after he thought it.

He desperately wanted to hate the American, but his mind had other plans it seemed.

The Englishman didn't like it one bit.

"So that's the basement!" exclaimed Alfred as he finally departed from the blonde maid and ran up to him as Arthur waited for him by stairs. "Let's go up to the ground floor now!"

Arthur just rolled his eyes and walked up the stairs without waiting for Alfred.

"Artie, wait up!"

What he hated even more than the budding feeling he was trying to squash was the obvious fact that the American had no idea those feelings were even there.

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A/N: So I'm thinking this was one of my more lacking updates, yes? It just seems off to me, probably because I didn't really bother to go back over it and make sure everything sounded good.

Sorry :(

Anyway, just to say this now: I AM NOT DROPPING THE STORY. It's just going on a sort-of hiatus for the month of November.

Because I'm doing NaNoWriMo. Look it up if you don't know about it.

But I had to cut the tour chapter in half because I wanted to tell you guys what was going on before I just disappeared for a month (considering I haven't updated for what, three weeks?).

I feel bad about doing this, but I might write on this when I'm not feeling my story. We'll just have to see.

Oh, and as for the question posed at the end of the last chapter, Giripan won by like, a landslide. So they will be hinted at. Greece and Turkey will just be love/hate biffles.

No translations, right? I'm too lazy to check :P

Review to tell me good luck on my masochistic journey of 50,000 words in one month~ I will definitely return afterwards~ :D


	10. More Than Meets The Eye

OMG I'M BACK. AND A DECENT UPDATE TOO.

YOU ALL ARE SO LUCKY.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Sadface.

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Arthur actually didn't go too far before Alfred caught up to him. The American was after all showing him around, whether he liked it or not, and he was mildly curious about the layout of the hotel. The pamphlet had only told him about the different areas, so he didn't really have a good idea of where they were. He had usually been helping Ludwig out with maintenance in his free time, so he hadn't been able to explore yet.

Never in a million years would he admit how helpful the tour was to Alfred though. That would be like the equivalent of chopping off his foot and then cauterizing his leg to stop the bleeding—painful and altogether not very fun.

As they came onto the ground floor, Alfred looked over at the Englishman, who only returned the gesture when he knew that the other wasn't going to stop until he did.

"Yes, you twit?" growled Arthur, who could successfully hold onto a glare now that he had ceased to blush.

The American grinned a little at him, and he couldn't figure out why (and wasn't sure he did want to know).

"You're so cute when you're jealous."

The Brit choked on some of his spit, coughing a bit before sputtering, "W-What? I-I am not _jealous_!"

Rolling his eyes, Alfred turned away from Arthur and focused on walking again. "Uh-huh, that's why you glared at Katya and me instead of staring at her huge jugs like every other person, man or woman, who isn't busy being jealous."

He wanted to make a snappy retort, but he couldn't because honestly hadn't noticed whether the woman, Katya, had been well-endowed or not. He'd been too busy being mad at Alfred because he was sure they were flirting, and…

'_Bloody hell_…' thought Arthur bitterly as he internally recognized that he had, most definitely, been jealous.

Alfred glanced over his shoulder at Arthur, who was slowly trailing behind him, face down so he could focus on his feet and not on the American. He didn't want to see that damnable triumphant smirk of his that he knew would be there.

"Anyway, Mr. So-was-jealous, I was just telling Katya that if she wanted Vash to behave, she should go see Mr. Roddy. Vash hates him for some reason, but always grudgingly obeys him."

Didn't matter that he wasn't looking up—he could hear the damn smirk in his voice.

Instead of dwelling on the conversation that was undoubtedly going nowhere Arthur liked, he just decided to silently accept the other blonde's explanation, marching a little in front of Alfred so the younger man couldn't see his blush.

"Where are we going next?"

For once, the American had the tact not to comment on the Briton's obvious embarrassment at being caught in a lie. Either that or he was saving it for later blackmail like he had with the boxers. A smile on his face, Alfred calmly answered, "I was thinking we could stop by the flower shop before cruising into the offices for people you haven't met yet."

Determined not to show his excitement at visiting the flower shop (The notion itself felt so stereotypically homosexual, the Englishman thought he'd puke rainbows.), Arthur merely grunted as he allowed Alfred to retake the lead as they made their way over to The Scarlet Pimpernel, which hid back behind the stairs underneath where the restaurant was on the next floor up.

It was still early, so the shop wasn't open yet to the public, at least this was definitely the impression Arthur got when he saw the shut doors. This didn't deter Alfred as he smoothly walked up to the clear glass doors and knocked on one of them. Arthur was about to say that they could just come back later when he heard a feminine voice shout out from inside:

"We are closed! Please come back later!"

"Mei~, it's Alfred! I'm showing Arthur around today!" The Englishman raised an eyebrow at the man beside him, wondering how he being there made a difference in their admittance to the shop. Alfred merely grinned at him when a Chinese woman opened up the door, a large smile on her face as well.

"Ah, Arthur! I've been wondering when you would stop by here!" The woman practically drug Arthur into the shop, Alfred following after them, shutting the door behind him.

"What am I, the local celebrity?" grumbled Arthur as the woman dragged him all the way to the counter that sat in the center of the store.

The Asian woman laughed merrily as she let him go and hugged Alfred. "Aw, you were so right about him! He's simply adorable!"

Blushing, yet again, Arthur stammered, "E-Excuse me?"

"I'm Mei Xiu, Yao and Enlai's half-sister," she paused to shake his hand, grinning, "It's a pleasure to meet you!"

"I would introduce myself, but I'm afraid it's useless as everyone seems to know who I am…"

"Haha, we've probably come off as a little crazy, though it isn't too far from the truth, but we don't get too many new employees, so when we do—it's exciting." Mei seemed nice enough, considering all of the weirder people he'd met in the past week.

"I hadn't noticed," mumbled Arthur dryly, making both Mei and Alfred laugh.

"Ms. Mei, I thought we weren't open yet…?" came a soft feminine voice from the back of the store, the apparent employee-only area.

"Lili~! Guess who finally visited!"

There was an excited squeal and not even a minute later, a little blonde teenage girl came running out of the back, and right into Arthur.

"S-Sorry Mr. Arthur!" she exclaimed, blushing as she scampered around him to stand behind Mei, who was smiling warmly at the girl.

"This is my assistant, Lili Zwingli." The little girl nodded her hello, still hiding behind Mei.

"She's Vash's little sister!" added Alfred as he reached over and patted the girl's head. Lili smiled brightly at the mention of her brother, though Arthur felt himself pale. That gun-toting maid had such an innocent and sweet little sister? Surely she was adopted or something…

"You know Vash?" she asked excitedly, and despite his fear of the male maid, he nodded slightly in response to the girl, who immediately beamed at him. "Isn't Vash wonderful? He's the best big brother, ever!"

Arthur had honestly nothing to say back to that. He just sort of half-grinned at her, but that seemed to be enough. She just giggled, whispered something in Alfred's ear after she got him to bend down, and then ran back to the employee area without another word to the Londoner.

Alfred was smiling fondly after her before he turned back to Mei and asked, "Where's Michelle?"

Mei rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she replied, "Late, as usual. I suppose she's probably up talking with Francis and/or Matthew. The three of them love to babble on to each other in French just to gossip about others in front of them."

Laughing heartily, Alfred nodded, "They do indeed. I should know—I had to grow up with it."

"And yet you still don't know a single word, Al," remarked yet another female, but this one entered from outside the shop, like Arthur and Alfred had.

This new face was perhaps the first person of actual, well, _color_, Arthur had seen at _Tortuga_. Sure, there were those he had seen with the natural tan that had become part of their genetics, and a couple Asians, but this girl was obviously from the "darker" end of the spectrum. She was lighter-skinned than most African-Americans he'd met, but it seemed to suit her fine.

She noticed his stare, and smiled at him, curtsying slightly. "My brothers and father have told me about you, Mr. Kirkland. It is nice to finally meet you. I am Michelle Bonnefoy."

Out of reflex, Arthur bowed to her in return, mumbling, "I didn't know that Bonnefoy had a daughter…"

Michelle kept smiling, "Papa likes to keep me a secret. I'm like his "prized jewel" or something."

"Really Dad just doesn't want her to find a boyfriend and leave," murmured Alfred into Arthur's ear, loudly enough for everyone to hear. The Englishman blushed at the close proximity, something he just wasn't used to in general, and he felt like the three of them were laughing at him, not at what Alfred had said.

"That is sadly true. Papa has yet to approve of a single one of my boyfriends." Michelle gave a dramatic sigh.

"Pfffttt, like that ever stopped you?" countered Alfred, a playful grin on his face as he watched his sister, but he remained at his spot right behind Arthur.

"Shush you," said Michelle lightly as she just moved to go join Lili in the back. "Take _ton petit ami_ and leave us to get ready."

"Yes sister~!" called out Alfred sarcastically as he waved bye to Mei and pushed Arthur out of the shop, making sure the door shut snugly behind him. Turning back to the Brit, Alfred grinned widely and said, "So you've officially met my family now!"

"Your sister is nice," Arthur commented lightly, and then because the overly chipper American seemed far too happy, he added, "Nicer than you anyway."

Frowning in confusion, Alfred tilted his head and asked, "When was I ever mean to you, Artie?"

Arthur fumbled with the fact that _damnit_ did Alfred look insanely adorable doing that and _goddamnit_ he had to stop thinking those things! Clumsily, the Brit stuttered, "N-Never mind. Let's just go on with this stupid tour."

Although still confused, Alfred's grin returned as he starting walking towards where the offices were. They actually managed to walk in silence for a while before the Londoner realized there was a question he had forgotten to ask the American about.

"What did that little girl, Lili, whisper to you?"

Cocky grin back in full-force, Alfred glanced back at Arthur and said, "You won't like it~."

Scowling, Arthur repeated, "Tell me what she said."

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you!" Alfred warned, his grin never wavering. "She told me she was happy that my new boyfriend was so nice."

The Englishman couldn't help it; he stopped walking, staring blankly, in horror, at Alfred.

"W-What?"

"I told you that you wouldn't like it, Artie…"

"I am _not_ your _bloody_ boyfriend!"

He immediately regretted how loudly he'd yelled that the second after the last syllable exited his mouth. Everyone in the lobby was watching them, and Arthur hated it. The man and woman who worked at the front desk were whispering to each other with smirks on their faces, and Arthur felt his heart drop when they pulled out their phones and began txting. It had been bad enough that some teenage girl had just called him this obnoxious twit's boyfriend, but now the whole entire hotel would be talking about this. Now blushing profusely, Arthur wished desperately that he was back in his room—away from Alfred, far, far away.

The America just took the explosive statement with stride, laughing loudly to help ease the tension. He happily wrapped an arm around Arthur's shoulders and continued leading him towards the offices that were just past the front desk. The whole time, Arthur couldn't help but think that their closeness was not redeeming him in the eyes of those who witnessed his outburst.

If someone had asked him how his day was going, Arthur Kirkland would have replied, "Bloody fan-_fucking_-tastic."

He sincerely hoped they spoke sarcasm.

-_La Tortuga de Oro_-

"So I know you know where Ludwig and Roddy's offices are, but I don't think you're gotten to meet anyone from Administration yet! They're the ones who do all the boring business stuff that Dad, Gilbert, and Tony don't like to handle," explained Alfred as if nothing had happened mere seconds ago as they walked down the hallway leading to the offices.

Arthur had already decided that it was probably for the best if he just stayed quiet.

"Ah! Here we go! Administration!" The American beamed as he knocked on a lone door, not that far from Ludwig's door, and then just proceeded to walk in without waiting for a reply. "Anyone home?"

"Alfred-kun!" exclaimed a male voice as the two men entered the room.

"Haha, hey Kiku!"

The Englishman found himself eyeing the man Alfred was addressing warily. It was another man who was of Asian lineage. He had short black hair and brown eyes that seemed to express more emotion than his face did. Arthur hadn't realized he had been staring until he found himself looking into the man's eyes directly.

"I am Kiku Honda. You must be Arthur Kirkland-san. It is a preasure to meet you." The man, Kiku, bowed deeply towards Arthur, who immediately followed his example not wanting to offend the incredibly polite man.

"I-It's nice to meet you too, Kiku," replied Arthur nervously. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Alfred had caught him watching the Asian before being spoken too. Trying to ignore his dratted American guide, he focused on Kiku, who seemed to be struggling with speaking his mind and being polite. "D-Did I say something wrong?"

Kiku practically winced at being caught in his momentary inner war, and looked back up at Arthur with an embarrassed smile. "Ah, I am simpry not used to people who I have onry met call me by my first name. It is nothing though. A friend of Alfred-kun's is a friend of mine."

"O-Oh…" murmured Arthur, a blush threatening to appear on his face. He hadn't meant to be rude; he was just so used to everybody just accepting him calling them by their first names that he had forgotten his manners! That's what he got for hanging around Alfred, the damnable twat.

"Anyway, are the others here? I just wanna introduce Artie so they know his face," stated Alfred as he rested his elbow on Arthur's shoulder, even though the glare the Londoner was sending him was obviously telling him to revise that decision.

"Noah-kun and Eduard-kun are in, but I'm afraid Gupta-kun is out at the moment. He had a meeting at the advertisement building," elaborated Kiku as he led the way further into the Administration office, past the little lobby-like area they had first entered.

When they got to the main office area, there was a table in the middle of the room, but there were also four doors that led to their individual offices. All were open except one, but the blinds were open and Arthur recognized it as the one that also has a view into the main hallway. It would be hard not to remember the office he'd seen on his first day that had been full of clay pots…

"Hey everybody, I came here to present to you our newest family member: Arthur Kirkland!" proclaimed Alfred loudly to the people who were in their offices working. There was muttering, some of it angry, following the announcement, but slowly the two men who were in the separate offices came out.

Arthur had the distinct feeling that they only did it because Alfred was one of the bosses' sons, not because they actually cared who he was.

The blonde man with glasses was closest to him and made the first notion of greeting. He first pushed up his glasses back over his green eyes before holding out a hand to Arthur. "I'm Eduard von Bock. I'm the main accountant and in general, head of business affairs."

"Noah van Rijn," grumbled the other man, who was also blonde, but had no glasses and his eyes had blue in them as well as green, "I'm in charge of the legal shit."

"Noah-kun!" chided Kiku, who simply looked aghast that Noah had said something so vulgar in front of someone he barely knew.

The young man just shrugged his shoulders before crossing his arms in another show of indifference. "It's the truth. I don't know why we keep Mr. Bonnefoy around; all he does is create lawsuit after lawsuit and hell if I'm not damn sick of it."

Kiku remained looking scandalized, especially since now Noah was bad-mouthing Alfred's dad in front of him. Arthur could relate, he'd probably feel the same way in Kiku's place, but at the moment he was more curious as to why Noah seemed familiar. The Londoner was almost positive he'd seen that particular spikey hairstyle before…

As usual, Alfred let the insult just roll off him and laughed.

"Yeah, Dad isn't the most discreet. I'm sure Ludwig would've made him leave if he wasn't so crucial in the kitchen!"

Arthur felt his eyebrows furrow as he looked up at Alfred (and damnit did he hate the fact he had to look up), "What does Ludwig have to do with anything? I thought he was just the maintenance head?"

"Ludwig-kun has many jobs, and since neither Gilbert-san nor the other two are very…_diligent_, Ludwig-kun usually in the actual one in charge, even though Roderich-san holds a higher position," explained Kiku patiently, a small smile on his face.

"Still don't know why that damn Austrian isn't doing this job instead. I never even went to law school and I somehow got stuck with it," grumbled Noah some more as he just walked back into his office without another word to any of them.

'_Isn't he a ray of sunshine_?' mused Arthur sarcastically, though he couldn't say too much because he knew he could be just as bad sometimes.

"Whilst Noah does have a point about Roderich, I must say he complains too much for someone who has the easier job. It isn't fun and games keeping all the hotel's purchases and receipts in order." Arthur had honestly forgotten that Eduard was still there. The guy was just…forgettable and the slightest bit annoying even though he'd only heard him talk twice now. "Well, I must get back to my job. It was nice to see you Arthur."

Arthur merely waved at him slightly, honestly not caring that he left.

"Well, that's everybody except Gupta, but I'm sure you'll see him eventually. He sometimes hangs out with Mattie and Lars, and when those two get together usually everyone hears about what they did." Alfred broke off as he reminded a fond memory of one of Matthew and Lars's adventures. "My favorite one was when they took catching turtles too far…Tony really wanted to fire Lars for that one, but Gilbert wouldn't let him."

Staring in at Alfred with a form of disbelief, Arthur said flatly, "I'm not sure if I want to know, but who is Lars?"

"Lars? Haven't you met him? He works at the front desk with Elise, his sister. They're Noah's older siblings." The American relied the information as if it should've been obvious.

That explained why Noah's hair had been familiar. It was identical except for color to Lars', the man at the front desk who had been dozing when he was talking to him and his sister that first day. It seemed the whole family was uniformly very…unique.

"Ah," mumbled Arthur, not really wanting to voice his opinion of Lars. He felt that one actual meeting wasn't really that much to go on, and he had actually been more helpful than his sister.

"I think that's all for now. We'd better get moving on to the rest if I wanna make it to my shift on time." Alfred turned around, grabbing Arthur's upper arm to pull him with him, and waved bye to Kiku. "See ya later, Kiku! I'll txt you if something happens!"

Kiku waved back, but Arthur could've sworn he heard the Asian man murmur something about how it would be easier to just txt Elizaveta directly if something did happen. The Brit didn't get a chance to question it because he was, yet again, being dragged off to another part of the building.

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A/N: Hi guys! Missed you all~! So NaNoWriMo wasn't a complete success, but it wasn't a complete failure either. I only got about halfway, but that's further than I got last year, and I was dealing with my first semester of college, so I'm proud. :)

This actually would've been up a day or two earlier if I hadn't gotten sidetracked by World of Warcraft...a lot...

Also I saw Tangled this weekend and it made me think of PruHun. I mean, come on! Rapunzel wields a FRYING PAN. Flynn starts off as some kind of sorta narcissistic fends for himself jerk.

TOTALLY OBVIOUS. /is shot

So yeah, I introduced a BUTTLOAD of new people. In the flower shop it was Taiwan, Liechtenstein, and Seychelles. Administration: Japan, Estonia, and Luxembourg (with mentions of Egypt). Yes, I am aware that Luxembourg isn't technically a character yet, but I love him anyway. (Haha it's not even shown what the gender is, but I like it being a boy.) I actually kind of stole his personalization from tatterdemalion (his name from them too), but I tried to put a little of my own spin on him. He's kinda like England for some reason, just with a total disregard for niceties. IDK. Just my thoughts about him.

People who haven't appeared yet: Belarus, Denmark, Norway, Sealand, Egypt, and Cuba. (Also the rest of the Kirkland Clan, but they arrive in due time.) Pretty much everyone listed should appear next chapter. If it works like I want it to. We'll see.

Also, you should all listen to Simon Curtis's album, "8bit Heart" because it's amazing and sexy. I only say this because it was pretty much what I was listening to while writing this. XD

Soooooo review! Reviews help Gupta at his marketing meeting, where he's probably trying to sell the CEOs pots instead of actually doing his job.

Oh, and the reason Noah was like "God, why isn't Roderich doing the legal shit" is because Roderich actually went to law school and passed the bar, but he discovered his love of cake-making and decided not to do it anymore. He makes all the desserts for the Dragonfly.

I LOVE YOU GUYS. REVIEW TO TELL ME HOW YOU MISSED ME~!


	11. From The Mouth Of A Greek

Holy schnapplesticks, how did I manage to get two updates in a row about the same size? And to think there was a little bit more I wanted to tack onto the end of this one...

Disclaimer: I'm awesome, but not awesome enough to be the one who thought this up. :(

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Even though it had been at least ten minutes since his embarrassing outburst in the lobby, most of the same people seemed to still be milling around. A few pointed, whispering to each other as Arthur and Alfred walked out from the hallway, heading towards the stairs. The Englishman could feel his face growing red, from the further humiliation, and from anger that Alfred seemed to be completely oblivious to it all as he just rattled on about the hotel.

"So we have twenty-one floors altogether, but the top three floors are the penthouses that Dad, Gilbert, and Tony live in. Mattie and I live by ourselves, but Dad still insists that Michelle live with him. Lovino mind as well live at Tony's, and Ludwig would be better off moving in with Feliciano." The American shrugged, not even bothering to look over at Arthur to make sure he was paying attention to what seemingly had turned into a rundown of the relationship statuses of their fellow co-workers.

But Arthur wasn't listening to Alfred at all. He didn't care who was possibly sleeping or living with who. It was far more pressing to him to know why the creepy chick with long platinum blonde hair was staring at him from near the front desk with her piercing ice blue eyes. The Londoner even looked away once to see if it could be anyone else she was gazing at so intently, but when he looked back—she was still focused on him.

"J-Jones?"

Alfred stopped talking and walking immediately at Arthur's cautious voice, which inadvertently made the British man run into his guide a little. Holding onto the shorter (yet older) man's shoulders, the American insured he didn't fall over before he asked, "What's wrong, Artie?"

Kirkland damned the darker blush he knew was starting to cover his face as he pushed Alfred's hands off him and dusted off imaginary dirt from his person. Not meeting Alfred's eyes, he mumbled, "That girl over there is staring, and I was wondering if you knew why…"

There was a moment of silence as Alfred presumably was searching the crowd for the girl in mention, and Arthur heard him groan a little when he apparently found the girl in question.

"That, Artie, would be Natalia Braginskaya, Ivan's little sister. She has this weird…obsession with Braginski, and for some reason thinks I'm a threat to her." Arthur shifted his eyes back up just in time to see Alfred giving Natalia a genuinely perplexed look. He quickly shrugged before meeting Arthur's eyes and grinning. "I would think she'd be more worried about Raivis, but who knows how her mind works? Come on, let's keep going. The only thing that will make her quit is if Ivan appears."

"What is this? The freaky half-way house for fucked up families?" murmured Arthur as he followed after Alfred once more.

Alfred laughed loudly, "Haha, this place wouldn't be worth living in otherwise!"

Arthur just rolled his eyes.

Instead of going up the stairs, like he had thought they would, Jones led them back past The Scarlet Pimpernel and towards the doors at the back that he had assumed had been the entrance to some maintenance area. As they passed the stairs, Arthur heard a voice of someone he hadn't seen in at least eight years…

"Noooooooooooooo! I don't wanna work, Erik; I wanna go see Arthur! Berwald said I could when our shift was over!"

"Idiot. Our shift isn't over. We have three more hours," replied a male and deeply annoyed sounding voice.

Pausing in his steps, Arthur glanced around, trying to find the sources of the conversation, but as far as he could tell, they were invisible.

"I'm an adult! I don't have to listen to such stupid things like hours!"

"Finishing shifts is the biggest part of being an adult, Peter."

There was a pause before the younger sounding voice replied excitedly, "Then I will finish my shift in record speed! No one will question my being an adult!"

"Uh, Artie? Someone else staring at ya like a weirdo?"

The Englishman jumped having forgotten that he was technically still on that damned tour with Alfred. Turning around sharply, he almost ran into the American again because he had been standing directly behind Arthur.

"I-I'm fine. Just thought I heard someone I used to know, is all…"

Alfred's blue eyes refused to let go of Arthur's green ones for a while, but then broke out into a smile.

"Okay then! Come on; we're almost done!"

Arthur looked behind them one last time. He hadn't heard the voices since Alfred had started talking again. With a shake of his head, he trailed languidly after Alfred, still thinking about what he'd just heard.

Peter was the name of his youngest brother, well half-brother. Arthur's stepmother had taken Peter with her to America after their dad had died. Neither Arthur nor his brother's had seen either of them since. They occasionally got a letter from their stepmother, but they hadn't gotten one in a while. Not that Bran had told him of anyway. The Brit just couldn't help but begin to think that the last he remembered, she had settled down in New York City, and that maybe there was a deeper meaning than being a new employee that caused this Peter to want to see him…

-_La Tortuga de Oro_-

When they had walked through those double doors, Arthur had been surprised to find a smaller building behind the hotel. He wasn't sure why he was so surprised. It had been in the brochure he'd read, but he hadn't expected it to only be a three story building in practically the middle of downtown New York City. The mere idea seemed…weird.

"So here's the recreational building!" proclaimed Alfred happily, gesturing around as they entered the building. The man at the desk inside smiled cheerfully as he waved at Alfred before pressing a button that actually let them in the actual facility. The American nodded gratefully at the Asian man with glasses as they walked through the second set of doors.

Arthur stopped to just take in how extravagant even this building was. It was the recreational center, but even it had a matching color scheme and décor to that of the hotel. Sure, it was toned down because it was where people went to get sweaty and work off unwanted pounds, but it was still so obviously part of _Tortuga_.

After a while, the Briton realized Alfred wasn't jabbering away at him, so he looked at the American to just find him beaming at him.

The Londoner quirked an eyebrow up at the man.

"What, you wanker?"

Jones gave him something like a secretive smile, "Oh, nothing."

"Oooookay…how about we put an end to this idiotic tour then?" suggested Arthur, giving the other man a look that clearly expressed his disbelief that the look had been "nothing."

"Sure thing, Artie!" And just like that, Alfred was walking and babbling away again, as if it had been nothing. Arthur followed in mild annoyance at his behavior. "Well, in the basement there's the pool and its locker rooms. There's also a set of saunas down there and a few hot tubs. Makes it a good place during the summer and winter! This floor has the basketball and racquetball courts along with the regular locker rooms and showers. Up on the second floor we have the track and the actual gym part."

They were walking towards the elevator that was placed a little past the desk, but opposite the stairs. Alfred pressed the up button, and they had only to wait a few seconds before it opened and two men walked out.

"_Hej_,Alfred! What are you doing here?" asked the taller man who had pale blonde hair and blue eyes. It was obvious he'd been there to work-out not only because of his red wife-beater and mesh shorts, but also because of his muscular physique in general.

"Hey Mathias! I'm just showing Artie around before my shift," answered the American, a lopsided grin on his face.

For the first time the man took in Arthur's appearance and he held out his hand, shaking Arthur's firmly when he accepted the gesture.

"Kirkland, huh? I'm Mathias Køhler! Nice ta meet ya!" It was all Arthur could do to just nod his head as he tried to pry his hand from the man's grip. Luckily, the man with Mathias seemed to catch his dilemma, and pushed his friend aside to shake the Englishman's hand as well, though the whole time he was glaring at Alfred rather than looking at Arthur.

"I'm Maxim Fernando. It is a pleasure to meet you, despite your current company."

"Aw come on, Maxim! I already told you I was sorry for eating all your ice cream when we were six!" Alfred was pouting, and Arthur was torn between looking in vague wonder at how utterly cute he was doing that and determinedly not looking so as not to further incriminate himself. He settled for looking at Maxim, who as his last name implied, was most definitely from a Spanish speaking country, like Mexico or Cuba instead of Spain given his skin was darker than Antonio's had been.

"That is beside the point, Jones!" growled Maxim, "You stole Maria from me in high school! That's the problem!"

"Haha, what?" Arthur chanced a glance over at the American and was almost disappointed to see that the pout had been replaced by a look of amused incredulity. "I didn't steal Maria from anyone. I never even dated her!"

"You aren't even man enough to own up to the truth! I knew I shouldn't have expected more from a bastard like you!"

The three blondes watched the dark-haired man march off in anger, all three of them different levels of perplexed at what had just happened.

"Weirdo…" grumbled Alfred in good humor, just watching Maxim leave the building, "He never lets me explain that it was totally that brat Lovino who stole Maria from him…"

"Hahahahaha that sounds like something Vargas would do!" laughed Mathias merrily as he clapped Alfred on the shoulder before ruffling both his and Arthur's hair at the same time. Arthur just glared up at the man who had a sinking feeling he was older than. "I'll see you two kids later; gotta go before Beilschmidt throws a fit about me being late or some shit."

Suddenly, Arthur found himself alone with Alfred once again.

"Well, now you've pretty much met everybody! I'll just show you around the garden on the roof, and we'll be done!" exclaimed Alfred as he pressed the elevator button again since the doors had shut while they talked with Mathias and Maxim.

"There's a _garden_ on the _roof_?" inquired Arthur as they entered the elevator, more than a little skeptical about why it was there. This was supposedly a gym of sorts, and that seemed like an odd thing to have on top of the building.

"Yeah, it's where the yoga classes are held or something. I don't know really, just that it's there," replied Alfred without much interest as he pressed the button labeled 3. He turned to wink at Arthur, "To be honest, it's more used as a metaphorical 'make-out point' than anything."

"W-Well that's simply ludicrous," murmured Arthur as he looked away from the American in an attempt to not give him the satisfaction of seeing him blush at the mere thought of them going to this "make-out point" by themselves.

The Englishman quickly realized with almost a sense of dreading that they were, in fact, going to the "make-out point," their party consisting of just the two of them.

'_Shiiiiitttttt_…' thought Arthur as he felt the elevator slow to a stop. This day was just destined to be chockfull of embarrassing memories, wasn't it? He was just contemplating how on _earth_ he was going to survive living at the hotel when the doors of the elevator opened revealing not a garden, but a completely different world—one full of all sorts of vegetation.

"This is magnificent," whispered Kirkland as he tentatively stepped off the elevator, almost afraid that if he stepped onto the grass that carpeted the ground, he'd break the illusion and he'd never see the garden again.

Not only were there hedges all around the edges of the room, for it was more like a greenhouse than just the roof, but there were vines crawling up the walls stretching towards the glass ceiling. Looking up, Arthur marveled at the fact that though they were in actuality surrounded by buildings, you could only see the sky through the glass ceiling—only the clear blue sky, clouds lazily traveling by.

Flowers, even a tree or two, were scattered everywhere and of all kinds. There were too many to even begin naming, and oh how many colors there were! Stone benches were placed randomly, yet aesthetically and where they would be of the most use. There was a large clear area where the supposed yoga classes were held, but then there were secluded spots like over in the corner, and _holy shit_ was that a gazebo Arthur spotted off at the opposite end?

As the two of them walked in silence, Arthur mainly because he was genuinely stunned speechless and Alfred mainly because he was enjoying Arthur being speechless, they came up to what Arthur realized was a little pond with real, live koi fish living in it. It wasn't until a little songbird landed in the sole birdbath in front of them, that Arthur became aware that the chirping he'd been hearing hadn't been just a CD playing on a loop somewhere. There were, in fact, real live animals living in the garden.

"I keep telling Dad that he went a little overboard with putting animals in here because it just means someone has to worry about keeping them alive, but he insisted on being romantic or something equally stupid," said Alfred casually as he just stood there, hands in his pockets as if he had all the time in the world. His broke his eyes away from whatever it had been he'd been looking at to meet Arthur's eyes, a little grin on his face at noticing that the Englishman watched him when given the chance.

Arthur hurriedly averted his eyes again and went off to look at the garden with closer detail. He didn't see this as a bad idea until he comprehended the fact that not only was Alfred trailing behind him like the stalker that he was, but that he had also led himself to one of the more secluded and private areas of the garden. Even he saw how it looked like he had purposefully led Alfred there so that they could…_talk_.

His heart nearly jumped out of his throat when he turned around to confront Alfred about their parting ways and found the American was directly behind him again. All the words he had meant to say, about how he hated the man and desperately wanted to be rid of his presence, left his mind entirely when he saw the smirk that was playing upon Alfred's lips and the mischievous gleam that was dancing around in his bright blue eyes.

He appeared ready to close the gap between them, and Arthur really wasn't sure if that was what he wanted or not, but he was prevented from doing so when they both heard a distinctly loud yawn come from between the bench near them and the hedge. Both of them looked over to the offending area, and up sat Heracles Karupsi, the napping Greek from the previous day.

For the first time, Arthur saw a scowl upon Alfred's face as they continued to watch their co-worker, who went through his motions of stretching as if he was always in the presence of people when he woke up. Arthur gave a mental shrug when he recognized the fact that given what he had gathered of Heracles from his two encounters of the man that he probably did.

"Heracles, what the hell are you doing here?" Arthur blinked in mild shock at how frustrated Alfred sounded with the formerly napping man. It's not like they had been doing anything…

"Hmmmm?" The Greek man looked confused for a moment before his green eyes seemed to clear of the fog and understand who was talking to him and what they had just said. "Oh, Matthew told me that you would end the tour here and that I should come wait here to make sure you wouldn't be late to work…I think I fell asleep when you weren't here after five minutes…"

The Londoner wanted to ask why Alfred's half-brother knew where the tour would end because it made it seem like Alfred had planned to have their last stop be the hotel's "make-out point," a fact that made Arthur step away from the American slightly. Thankfully, Alfred was too busy to notice as he looked like he wanted to punch Heracles, who was still just sitting on the ground, as if he might need some help standing.

"I won't be late to work, so you can go now."

Heracles continued to stare blankly at Alfred. "But we are already late, are we not?" He paused to look up at the sky before meeting Alfred's eyes again. "Our shift started at 11:30 and it is almost noon."

Arthur checked his wristwatch only to see that he was completely right. It was ten till twelve. He was about to ask how he had known that by just looking up at the sky when Alfred sighed in defeat, something Arthur had almost begun to think was impossible and that his ego simply wouldn't allow defeat of any kind.

"Fine," he threw his hands up a little to emphasis that he was giving in as he turned to Arthur, running a hand through his golden blonde hair, "I guess that concludes your tour with me, the hero. Sorry we had to cut it short."

More than a little confused, Arthur watched as Alfred ruffled his own hair as he walked back towards the elevator before questioning, "I thought you said this was the last stop of the tour? What else was there to see?"

Alfred looked over his shoulder, grinning as his eyes raked over Arthur's body, making the Englishman consciously aware that there weren't alone anymore. The younger man met Arthur's eyes again and just gave a wink before walking off without answering.

Frowning (not pouting!), Arthur demanded, "That's not an answer, Jones!"

All he got that time was laughter as the elevator doors closed and the machine took Alfred away from the garden.

"I thought he gave a very clear answer," remarked Heracles, who had sometime during Arthur's inquisition of Alfred had gotten up to stand next to the Briton.

Arthur just kind of gaped at him in astonishment before looking away and stammering, "W-Well maybe he should've made it clearer by speaking with words instead of just looking at me like I was some kind of, of—"

"Prostitute?" finished Heracles most unhelpfully.

Staring at him in almost curiosity of how his mind worked, Arthur shook his head vigorously before saying, "N-Not exactly what I was thinking, b-but I suppose the meaning remains."

Heracles shrugged. "Actions speak louder than words, Kirkland."

Hesitantly, Arthur posed his next question, "What do you mean, precisely?"

The Greek man met his eyes dead-on and said in a monotone, "Alfred, as you may have noticed, is a very loud person."

Arthur rolled his eyes and grumbled, "Understatement of the era…"

"So when he chooses to use body language instead of verbally announcing what he's thinking to the tri-state area, one knows he means whatever it is he's trying to convey."

"But _what_ is he trying to convey?"

Blinking stupidly at Arthur, Heracles said, "He wants to fuck you; I thought it was obvious."

He wants to retort with how stupid and foolish that assumption is, but he can't because it was what he had been refusing to accept himself. Arthur mechanically grunted and waved goodbye when Heracles bid him farewell to join Alfred at the Dragonfly. Perhaps what pissed the Brit off the most was that the damn Greek man had been grinning lazily as he left.

"Everyone in this place is bloody _mental_," growled Arthur as he went down in the elevator himself, having waited until he was sure Heracles was long since gone. He gave a half-hearted wave to the Asian man with glasses at the front desk of the building, noting that the t-shirt he was wearing had a cartoonish looking elephant printed on it. Taking this as just further proof that everyone who chose to work there had some kind of mental disability, the Englishman continued making his slow and steady way back to his room.

He would be ecstatic when this day was fucking _over_.

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A/N: Huurrr I love having that moment where people almost kiss and then don't. Mainly because I'm a cocktease of a writer. Cliffhangers get me going is all I'm saying. Haha...

Okay, so Natalia's entrance was weird, but to explain: Ivan used to have a little thing for Alfred, which pissed her off (obviously) and though he moved onto greener (and younger) pastures when Raivis came to work at _Tortuga_, she still holds Alfred responsible for "taking her beloved brother away from her" or something equally silly.

I liked one of Himayura's ideas for Cuba's name better than what I had, so I went with Maxim instead of Leandro, which frankly I think just sounds stupid. Mathias is Denmark (duh) and though nameless until I deem him important enough to name (which I'll probably do anyway), unexpected Thailand as the front desk guy of the rec building!

Oh and Peter and Erik (Norway) arguing up on the stairs. Silly, unobservant Arthur. If he had just looked up instead of around, he would've seen them.

Also, "Maria" can be taken as Spain's axe in human form (lolwut) or as Mexico (who would be female, yes). Maxim, Alfred, Matthew, Lovino, and Feliciano all went to high school together because naturally the Bad Touch Trio would have parties and stuff, so they all knew each other regardless. Ludwig and Elise were a couple grades ahead of them and graduated like, three years before them. (Technically Elise graduated before her and her brothers came over from Europe, but whatever.)

LOL CAN YOU SEE THE PLOT I'M TRYING TO INSERT IN THE STORY? (It's very small~ :D)

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TRANSLATIONS:

_hej_ (Danish) - hey

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Reviews are greatly loved because HO SHIT, there's almost a hundred of them for this story! That's exciting!

Also reviews...umm...help Maxim forgive Alfred for "stealing" Maria from him?


	12. The Eyebrows Thicken

This chapter is like, half the previous two, but I needed to wrap up this day so I can move on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Power Rangers. Three guesses which one I care more about.

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If you were to ask Arthur Kirkland how he spent the few hours before his shift, he would have told you that: "He was productive and wasted no time doing something frivolous like that idiotic American, Jones, undoubtedly would have tried to coerce him to do had he not had to go to work before him."

Ludwig Beilschmidt would, however, just look at you and bluntly reply, "He spent his time by complaining to me about the various annoying traits that Alfred Jones holds. While I do think the man needs more discipline, there is only one reason why someone would, frankly, bitch about someone else that long."

Arthur would then jump in and silence Ludwig before the German man could say anymore, both because he found it embarrassing and because he didn't want to face the truth quite yet.

Even though the entire hotel seemed to be like, pages in front of him in his own book of life. It was rather irritating to have practical strangers more sure about his love life than he was.

"I should've just taken being fired and gone back to London," grumbled Arthur as wiped a glass clean and set it back in its place. He sighed a little as he looked up, and surveyed the bar. No one was there to serve and no one had been for the past thirty minutes, so Arthur proceeded to start making sure the glasses were all clean again.

"Aren't you pleasant company?"

The Englishman glanced up from his task to see his boss, Gilbert, had finally meandered over from the Dragonfly to close-up shop.

"I doubt it's really affecting the customers, sir. They seemed to have been frightened off by something bigger and badder than a distraught Englishman."

Gilbert gaped at him in horror. "There's something that can be _worse_ than a brooding Englishman? _Mein Gott_! I hope I never see it!"

Rolling his eyes, but a tiny smile on his face, Arthur stopped washing the glasses for what was probably the fifth time, and just faced his boss.

"Why have you come over here early, sir? We aren't to close up until one."

"This is true, but I figured since Francis is making that brat of his stay after hours to make up for being late, I'd let you off early to give you a head start." Arthur was actually about to thank the older German brother when the man continued. "I'll try to make sure he doesn't get kept too long so you two can still have like, kinky maid sex or something before bed. All Britons are perverts right? Hey! _Wohin gehst du_, Kirkland?"

Arthur managed to successfully ignore Gilbert as he stomped off to the elevator so that he could go back to his room. He really needed to find whoever keeps the gossip mill around here going and strangle that individual. It was going to be the only way to stop having everything he did be related to Alfred and sex.

He blushed the smallest bit as his mind may or may not have conjured up images that may or may not have been very…nice.

If Arthur hadn't been watching his feet to avoid the eyes of the two other people on the elevator, he might not have seen the little Power Ranger action figure that had been placed outside of his apartment. He looked around as if he was going to see who put it there before picking it up and holding it for a moment.

It was a figure of the red ranger, from what Arthur believed to be the first series or whatever. He could never keep all that nonsense straight, but little Peter had been amazing at it. Come to think of it…the figure looked more familiar than just from being from the show. He could distinctly remember an incident that would have caused the odd plastic gash on its side—an incident that involved his twin siblings, a bow and arrow, and a loudly bawling Peter when it was over.

Shaking his head, Arthur pocketed the figure and opened his door, making sure to lock it before walking past his entry way and sitting on the couch as he pressed the button on his cell phone that would call his older brother, Bran.

He was holding the figure in his hand once again as he heard the grunting that signaled he had finally gotten through.

"Bran! I think something happened to Peter! I found this Power Rangers toy outside of my apartment just now, and it looks exactly like the red one that Sheridan and Seamus tried to assassinate for being lame before Father died!"

"First of all, Wart: shut the _bloody fuck_ up. Secondly, who the hell is Peter?"

Arthur couldn't help but roll his eyes at his oldest brother. "Peter is our half-brother, you know, the kid Father had with his last wife, Victoria?"

"Nnngh right, the brat. Okay, so what about him is so important that you feel the need to call and wake me up at six in the morning when I don't have work today and was going to sleep in before dealing with those other brats we call siblings?"

"Didn't you hear what I said, Bran? I think something happened to Peter! I found one of his favorite action figures, the one the twins took an arrow to?" There was a grunt of laughter from remembrance. "Well, it was just sitting outside of my apartment when I got off of work tonight! What if this is a notification that he's been kidnapped? How do we get in contact with Victoria? She never lists a phone number in her letters! She must be _terribly_ worried!"

"Oh, calm down you twit." Arthur just blinked as he held his phone out a little and stared at it.

"_Excuse me_?"

"I've already told you to shut up once during this conversation, Wart. Just let me talk." Bran paused to make sure his brother was going to stay quiet before going on, "I can't say I'm not surprised that you found him this quickly, but my friend did tell me he knew where he was and could help out."

"_You sent me to find Peter without telling me_?"

"Yes, you twit who can't understand the concept of '_shut the bloody fuck up it's six in the morning and I just woke up_,' I arranged it so that you would go to America and find the brat. I got a letter a couple weeks ago from Victoria's friend that she had died and while he didn't mind taking care of Peter for a while, Victoria had expressed in her will that she wanted him to come live with us."

Arthur's face cleared of emotion, and the only thing he asked was, "Why would she want _us_ to take care of him?"

That actually got a small chuckle out of Bran, who just replied, "Hell if I know. She seemed to be under the impression that we actually liked the brat."

"Why didn't you tell me before I left?" grumbled Arthur, more frustrated by not being informed than the fact that his stepmom was dead. She had been nice, but like her son, a little annoying. Especially when she tried to act like a mother hen to fully grown men who weren't her actual sons.

"It must have slipped my mind…"

"You were drunk when you and the twins saw me off, weren't you?"

"So Duncan, the twins, and I will fly over at the end of the week to get the brat, or at least to see him. I was thinking you would take responsibility for him because I really don't want to, and the other three kind of hate him. Just make sure we'll have a place to stay when we arrive and I'll like, call you or something when I know when our flight will get in so you can pick us up."

Not even a goodbye to signal he was hanging up. Arthur just sighed at his brother. Bastard probably did have work, but just didn't want to admit that Arthur had actually helped him get up in time. Either that or he was going to fake being sick again just so he could sleep more.

It wasn't until after he was halfway through making himself some tea when he realized that Bran had said he "arranged it" for Arthur to go to America.

"What the hell did he mean by that?" contemplated the Londoner as he poured his cup of tea thoughtfully, picking it up to blow on it a little before taking a sip.

He rubbed his forehead gently with his free hand as he continued to drink his tea. The day had been bad overall, he wasn't sure if he could take much more of this place.

That was when Arthur realized his brothers and sister were coming to America in a week. They would probably have to crash in his apartment. His tiny but not so tiny, one bedroom apartment.

"I'm going to bed before it just all goes to hell," grumbled Arthur as he set down his cup of tea next to the red Power Ranger who was sitting on the coffee table in his little living room, and went back to his bedroom.

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A/N: MOAR OBVIOUS PLOT IS OBVIOUS, YES?

Like, two people mentioned it being about Peter, and it is. Sort of. I guess it isn't really a _plot_, but it's like, the reasoning behind why Arthur went to Tortuga in the first place, so I find that important, don't you?

I like writing Bran far too much. He just amuses me.

Clever chapter title is clever?

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TRANSLATIONS:

_Wohin gehst du?_ (German) - Where are you going?

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Review to tell me what you think is going to happen! Or if you don't care to speculate, how badly you want me to start a Christmas side-fic of this AU! (The latter is probably going to happen regardless. It already has a title: "The Twelve Days of Tortuga".)

Also, this story is SERIOUSLY close to having 100 reviews! MAKE IT HAPPEN!


	13. Fill Me Up

Update to the main story after almost two months! :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. The more you know.

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When Arthur woke up the next morning, he most certainly could only think about the fact that his brother had bloody set him up; not only for a job he hadn't needed, but also about finding Peter. He hadn't needed any help finding a job, of that he was perfectly capable on his own. Besides, they could've all gone to see Peter together instead of just sending him.

So that begged the questions of: Why did Bran do it and how? And who did Bran know well enough that he could get his little brother a job in America?

Determined to look into the matter before his siblings arrived by the end of the week, the Englishman hurriedly got dressed so that he could go down and see Ludwig before the work day really got started.

-_La Tortuga de Oro_-

"I am afraid that I personally have never heard of a Bran Kirkland before now." Arthur tried to not look disappointed. He had just been hoping the German would know after all. His friend seemed to sense his newfound lack of hope anyway. "I am sorry, Arthur. I do deal with a lot of the contacts that the hotel has, but there are some that only those three have. They do not let me know everything; it would not be their business if they were not the ones with all the connections."

"That does make sense, yes. Sorry for troubling you, then." The Londoner immediately stood up and began making his way out of the office.

"Arthur." His friend's firm voice stopped him at the door, but he didn't shift his gaze from the doorknob. "Why are you asking about your own brother?"

A deep sigh escaped Arthur. He should've know that Ludwig would see that something was bothering him because despite all that Gilbert said about his _klein Bruder_'s failed attempts at asking Feliciano out, one also had to factor in that the chipper Italian could be quite dull. Ludwig was still incredibly perceptive, just not always when it involved the younger of the Vargas brothers.

Still facing the door, Arthur told Ludwig what he'd learned from his brother earlier that morning, and about his personal suspicions about why his brother did what he did. When he was done, he looked over at his friend, who was just looking thoughtfully down at his desk.

"Well?"

"Hmm?" Ludwig met Arthur's green eyes with his blue and gave him a small smile in the hopes that maybe it would dispel some of his friend's anxiety. "Arthur, I am sure nothing will happen that is beyond what family usually does when visiting. I will make arrangements for them to have their own quarters; your apartment has enough room for _maybe_ three people, comfortably. Really, Arthur, there is no need to worry about how they will behave. Odd things happen in this establishment as it is; I doubt they can add that much chaos."

Hearing, and in a way feeling, the truth in Ludwig's words, Arthur smiled back at his friend and said, "Thanks, Ludwig."

"_Ja, ja_, now leave and go bother Alfred or something."

"Me bother _him_? Are we talking about the same American idiot here?"

Ludwig rolled his eyes and just made a shooing motion with his hand. "Leave, Arthur. I am _sehr_ busy and I don't have time _für deine Liebeskummer_."

"My what?" exclaimed Arthur before Ludwig just fixed him with a stern look meaning that if he didn't get out, there might actually be hell to pay. Pouting only the slightest bit, the Englishman did leave the office with a tad of reluctance.

The German just chuckled a little under his breath at Arthur's reaction, leaning back in his chair as he wondered whether it was a good idea to keep his word and not tell his friend that he actually did know all the answers of his questions. He consoled himself with the fact that the other Kirklands would be arriving by the end of the week, and Arthur would be told then at the latest.

-_La Tortuga de Oro_-

After leaving Ludwig's office, Arthur wasn't really sure what he should do. It was about lunchtime, and though he was a little hungry, he refused to eat at Dragonfly because he _knew_ who his waiter would be even if he purposefully didn't sit in that section.

Somewhere in his brain, the thought of Alfred serving him in a completely different way popped up, and Arthur nearly ran into someone as he walked out of the front doors of Tortuga and out onto the streets of the Big Apple.

Between going back to his apartment and cooking or venturing out to find a place to eat, the native Londoner had chosen the latter because he truthfully just didn't feel like cooking at the moment. The only thing keeping him from returning and getting directions to a decent and nearby restaurant was the fear of Alfred perchance walking around (he took far too many breaks than should be allowed) and Arthur's pride. He wasn't quite sure which one was keeping him from returning more.

There was a slight wind blowing around the city, but it was still fairly warm, more so than he had ever encountered in London at the very least. He was actually about to stop and ask a fellow pedestrian if they knew of a good place to eat, when he saw a little restaurant squeezed between a hair salon and a clothing store for children. From the looks of it, it was something like a global-friendly dining spot because it had various national flags hanging in the windows, and not to mention the name of it was 'A La Earth'.

It seemed like a nice enough place to stop, so Arthur walked in, taking off his jacket as he did so because he had actually been getting to the verge of uncomfortably warm within his past couple minutes of walking. Upon walking in, he was immediately greeted by a young Asian woman who had fairly tan skin. She smiled at him, her long brown hair held back in a ponytail, her brown eyes shining at Arthur as she greeted him cheerfully, "Welcome to A La Earth! Party of one?"

Arthur nodded, and the woman just smiled wider as she picked up a single menu and led him to a small table off in a corner.

"Your server will be right with you!" she said before she went back towards the door to seat the next group of people that had just walked in the door.

Having focused entirely on his menu, Arthur didn't know he was doomed until the hostess came back up to him and said, "Sir? The group that walked in after you has invited you to join them."

Looking over to where the lady was pointing, Arthur felt his face pale.

Over at a booth was Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio, all three waving eagerly for him to come and join them. He really wanted to just tell her to inform them that he would rather eat nails than eat lunch with them, when she added, "The blonde gentleman also said that if you didn't, he'd see to it that you were fired?"

The Englishman sighed loudly, and stood up. He was apparently destined to have the worst week of his life.

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A/N: Update! Huzzah! Sorry it wasn't longer, but one has to ease back into these things, yeah? Plus, school has been raining down on me. I will hopefully have some free time in the upcoming weeks, so I will strive to update more!

Also, the hostess of A La Earth (clever, I know) is Vietnam, who's name will be Linh Phan. That's right. A La Earth is gonna hold more characters! Mostly OCs, but HEY. It'll still be amusing!

The title is because this is kind of a filler chapter. If you've seen NarutoPwned, it should make more sense. If not, it doesn't matter.

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TRANSLATIONS:

_klein Bruder _(German) - small/little brother_  
_

_für deine Liebeskummer_ (German) - for your love-sickness/love troubles

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So yeah. Review because I'm back! :D

Also, review who you think Bran's connection is! I'm curious as to who it seems like it is-like did I make it obvious who it really is, or is there like no clue at all? If people remember everything said, it shouldn't be that hard...

REVIEW~!


	14. Pivotal Moment

Disclaimer: Hetalia doesn't belong to me~ (shame.)

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As the hostess led Arthur over to the table, he couldn't help but play the funeral march in his head because he abhorred working with all three of his bosses at the same time. One on one he could handle them without too much trouble (except Bonnefoy), and really, he didn't mind them that much (except Bonnefoy). Gilbert was actually the easiest one of the trio to deal with, and what was scary was that Ludwig agreed with him.

"_Bonjour_ Arthur! What a coincidence that we ran into you here!" Francis turned to the hostess, and took her hand to kiss it gently. "_Merci, mademoiselle_ Phan."

The woman just giggled and rolled her eyes as she walked off, which made Arthur feel the slightest bit better about being near the Frenchman. At least there were people besides him who could fend off the lecher's advances.

Still, he waited until she was back at her station before facing Bonnefoy and asking, "Why did you call me over here?"

"Is it not normal for friends to eat lunch together?" countered Francis, a playful grin on his face.

Just glaring at the Frenchman, Arthur replied bluntly, "We're not friends."

"Aww, we're not, _Arturo_?" inquired Antonio, his green eyes wide with a childish innocence.

The Englishman repressed his own eye-roll as he replied, "I was talking specifically to Bonnefoy; I am not _his_ friend."

"Oh, okay!" And as randomly as he had entered the conversation, Antonio bowed out, choosing to regal Gilbert with more stories of his many pet turtles. All Arthur caught of the story was that Delmar and Pedro had attacked Lars' pet rabbit before the Frenchman spoke again.

"I would say friendship between us is a must if my son continues to court you."

"He is _not_ courting me!" growled Arthur, hating the knowing look Francis was giving him.

"Oh come on, Kirkland! You're still trying to play that card?" Now Gilbert joined their conversation even though Antonio was still talking about his turtles like he had an audience that cared.

"What _card_? I just don't think he is!"

"_Jaja_, you're so silly _Arturo_! Of course he is! Everyone knows~!" Great, even the oblivious Spaniard would pause in his monologue about his turtles to comment.

"_Oui!_ What everyone does not know is why you two have not gotten together yet!"

Thankfully, Arthur was prevented from having to give them a completely undignified response by the appearance of their waiter.

"Goodday, Gilbert, Francis, Antonio! Who's this lad ya got wit ya?" The man had brown hair, a little strand of which stuck up in the front quite unnaturally. His green eyes stood out again his moderately tanned skin, and his bright smile was almost blinding.

"Ah, Bruce! This is Arthur Kirkland. He is one of our employees, and he is also Alfred's new boyfriend!"

Kirkland opened his mouth to protest, but he couldn't. The waiter, Bruce, slapped him on the back, effectively slapping the wind out of him.

"Aw, congrats! Lil'Alfie has been on the market fer a while now! It's nice ta see him hookin' up wit someone!" Arthur wanted to explain himself, but all he could do is stare blankly up at their waiter, who took the stare completely different. "I'm sorry! I fergot ta intraduce myself. I'm Bruce Kelly!"

"H-Hello…" was all Arthur managed as he was just overwhelmed by the immensity of the misunderstanding.

"Now that we all know each other, what can I get ya?"

"_Vin_."

"_Leche!_"

"_Bier!_"

"…water…"

"Okay then! I'll be back wit yer drinks in a sec!" Then Bruce was gone again, and Arthur wished he just hadn't shown up at all.

"So why haven't you _und_ Jones _schliefen zusammen_?" The Londoner wasn't one hundred percent sure what his immediate boss had said, but he could assume by the nudle and eyebrow wiggle he'd received what it meant.

Blushing darkly, Arthur stammered, "W-Why does it matter to you guys so much? For all you know, I don't even like the twit back!"

"_Je suis son père_," stated Francis bluntly.

"I'm your boss," reminded Gilbert with an arrogant smirk.

"I'm just curious!" exclaimed Antonio happily, but his smile quickly morphed into a frown as he wagged his finger at Arthur, "And _Arturo_, it isn't nice to lie to _a tus amigos_!"

"Who said anything about lying?" All three of them gave him a look—a look that said 'don't be stupid, everyone knows the truth'. Still trying to remain oblivious, seeing as it always seemed to work for Carriedo, Arthur persisted, "Just staring at me isn't going to explain anything!"

Before any of them could reply, Bruce came back with their drinks.

"Here you go, lads? Are we ready ta order?"

"_Oui_, but we have a question for you first."

There wasn't a thing about Francis' statement that Arthur didn't want to burn in hell.

"Aw, sure."

"Don't you think it's obvious how much Arthur likes Alfred?"

"Bonnefoy!"

Bruce chuckled as he answered, "Haha of course it is, Francis! I've only just met him, and I can see it!"

The Brit wanted nothing more than to sink into the chair he was in and disappear. How the bloody hell did everyone just seem to _know_? He was barely around this Bruce, and he figured it out after coming to the table all of two times! Arthur's brain halted the moment it came upon a lone and terrifying thought: D-Did that mean Alfred knew?

"Bloody hell…" murmured Arthur, who suddenly did not feeling like eating anymore, at least not with his present company (like he had to begin with). He felt like everyone was now watching him, and that only enhanced his growing urge to leave and go back to his room. The Englishman stood up quickly, and giving his bosses and Bruce a nervous smile, said, "I'm sorry, but I've just remembered something I've got to do. Please excuse me, and I am so dreadfully sorry about leaving so early."

The four of them just watched as the Londoner walked away, pausing in his exit only when the hostess called out to him. He just smiled at her, rather unconvincingly, and told her he wasn't feeling well. She too watched him leave before walking over to Francis and the others.

"What's up with him?" inquired the woman.

"Oh, I suppose he is just figuring some things out. He tends to be quite slow in matters of _l'amour_ as I've come to find out," answered Francis, a small smile on his lips.

"Kesesesese, you're such a douchebag, Bonnefoy!" said Gilbert, a devious smirk on his own face.

"Fusososo~ but _Arturo_ is so cute when flustered! I can see why Alfred likes him so!" added Antonio cheerfully.

"_Oui_, I approve of Alfred's choice other than the fact that Arthur is a dull Briton, but I suppose the boy has more of his mother in him than _moi_." Francis glared at Gilbert as he added, "And though I thought _Mathieu_ was more in touch with his French heritage, he persists to betray his background by frolicking around with _un Allemand_."

Ignoring his friend, Gilbert just rolled his eyes as he sipped his beer. He then faced Linh Phan and Bruce Kelly who were still standing there.

"_Frau_ Phan, you may return to your post; Bruce, just go ahead and get us our usual."

Linh smiled, glad that nothing was actually wrong, that it was just the usual of Francis being an overly protective father, and happily did as she was told. The Australian man grinned as he wrote down the trio's order from memory and walked back towards the kitchen, yelling something at a man named Javier.

"How did you know I wanted my usual?" growled Francis, his aggressive attitude not having dispersed.

"Yeah, Gilbo! W-What if I wanted a burrito instead of my churros?" Antonio was trying to make his angry/stern face that he'd always tried to use on Lovino. It failed on Gilbert now just as it had failed on the Italian boy in the past.

The German (Prussian!) man just sighed and looked at his two friends, "Francis, you will always order the same thing no matter how long you look over the menu. It's been like that since day one at this restaurant because despite your appetite for variety in romance, your palate is entirely predictable." Gilbert just turned to Antonio and added simply, "Antonio, you hate burritos."

Laughing happily, Antonio immediately gave up pretending to be angry (which was good because he looked more constipated than anything, and Lovino surely would've made fun of him had he been present), but Francis just hmphed and averted his eyes.

"Oh _come on_, Francis! How long are you really going to stay mad at me for dating your precious _Mathieu_?" When Francis just made another disgruntled noise, Gilbert just stared at him in disbelief of how obstinate his friend was, and added, "You _do_ know that _he_ was the one who asked _me_ out, right?"

Francis' blue eyes made their way to meet Gilbert's red ones dead-on, and the German (Prussian!) knew for certain that his polar bear loving boyfriend had most definitely not informed his father of that fact, preferring to instead let his father's anger rage towards him, where years of friendship protected him, rather than the son, where filial piety would make Matt near shake with fear.

"_Scheiße_," muttered Gilbert, suddenly very afraid for poor Matthew's life.

-_La Tortuga de Oro_-

Arthur wasn't really paying attention to the outside world as he marched back into the hotel. He was much too focused on the internal war waging inside him. The mental battleground was as fierce as it was full of land mines and he had a feeling that there was still a rifle going off in his direction from A La Earth.

Therefore, he most definitely didn't notice Alfred until he had, quite literally, run into him.

"Oi! Watch where you're going you…twat…" The Englishman lost his angry tone just from staring up at the American (and God did he hate that he _had_ to look up).

"Artie! Just who I was looking for! I just got on break until lunchtime really starts up, so I figured we could get some food together and just hang out." It pissed Arthur off that he couldn't help but stare at the dazzling smile that was being flashed at him. The logical part of him was telling him to blow Alfred off because he needed some time to sort his thoughts out.

Too bad for the logical half of his brain that the half mesmerized by Alfred's smile was in control of his mouth and answered, "S-Sure…"

"Cool! Is Chinese okay?" Arthur just nodded wordlessly. "Awesome! We'll get take-out and watch a movie! Let's go up to my apartment, okay? I have menus on my fridge!"

The Englishman was incredibly unimpressed with this fact; it just seemed so wholly American to him to have Chinese take-out menus on your fridge. This didn't mean he was able to speak again because while Alfred had burgled his way into Arthur's apartment several times, Arthur had never been _outside_ of the American's door. (He didn't even know what floor it was on!)

"Artie, are you okay? You've normally said some sort of biting and snarky comment by now and are marching off."

"H-How do you mean, Jones?"

Alfred just continued to give him a scrutinizing stare, a contemplative frown on his face. "You have never willingly gone anywhere with me. Up until now, you have spent your days avoiding me, why agree to eat lunch with me at my apartment? Totally out of character for you."

Blushing a little at being caught acting out of the norm, Arthur mumbled, "W-Well, you're first impression of me was wrong: I'm not anything like James Bond—"

"_That_ has yet to be confirmed."

"—So maybe my first impression is wrong, and you're not quite as annoying as I thought."

Yup, Arthur was completely unable to look Alfred in the eye after admitting that, but he had to look up when he heard the American…laughing?

"Oh Artie! You're adorable! Come on, let's go to my apartment so we can order. I'm starving!"

Before he could form some sort of reply, Arthur's stomach growled quite loudly due to neglect and Alfred smiled at him.

"Haha, sounds like you're starving too, Artie!"

The Londoner wanted to defend himself, but it _was_ true. He was incredibly hungry, and like hell would he go back to A La Earth knowing his bosses three would be there. Therefore, he just blushed lightly and followed Alfred into the elevator, where the Brit couldn't help but remember how Alfred had teased him about his boxers.

"Jones, why the hell had you been snooping through my underwear drawer yesterday?"

"Huh? Oh, _that_? I was just curious as to whether you would have lots of kinky sex stuff in there like Gilbert said you would; plus James Bond had to have had _loads_ of things he'd asked Q to make or something—Ow!"

Arthur couldn't help but feel justified in punching Alfred in the arm. If anything, it made him feel better because he could ignore the coy teasing part and just think about the idiotic and creeper-like bit.

Plus the pout he had put on the American's face was cute.

-_La Tortuga de Oro_-

Along with eating Chinese with him at his apartment, Alfred also managed to con Arthur into watching a Bond movie, which only backfired on Alfred because all Arthur did was make fun of it.

"Honestly, Jones, nothing about this movie is believable! Not even the romance!"

"What does it matter if it's believable? It's awesome!"

"It matters in the aspect that you, being what I'll assume is a typical American, assumed right away that I was a spy like Bond merely because I am British!"

"Psh, I always knew you weren't a spy."

"W-What?"

"Yeah, I just used it as an excuse to riffle through your stuff." Alfred grinned as he leaned in to whisper into Arthur's ear, "You like unicorns and embroidery far too much to be manly, Artie, seriously."

Suddenly, Arthur was hyper-aware of the fact that Alfred's arm was wrapped around his shoulders, their faces were incredibly close, and Alfred was looking at him like he…like he…

"I-I'll have you know that unicorns are majestic creatures that shouldn't have to worry about 'being manly'." The Brit surprised himself by answering in the same whispered tone as Alfred. Yeah, that's right, he was flirting back finally. At least…he hoped that he was doing it right. He honestly had no real idea as to what 'flirting' consisted of…

"Is that so? Why don't you prove it to me?"

That reply threw Arthur off, making a confused expression appear on his face. "W-What? But how can I when all of my stuff is back in my—"

Arthur was interrupted by a pair of very American lips meeting his. Really, he didn't know what to do with that. It wasn't that he didn't want it because even for all his bitching to Ludwig, he had begun to realize that he might want something to happen between him and Alfred. It also wasn't because it was his first kiss with a guy or anything clichéd like that—he'd taken care of that during his 'phase' or so Bran called it.

Bran—there was the crux of his problems. He really did want to do this with Alfred, but it felt like bad timing. His siblings were going to be arriving in just a few days now, and if he were to be in a relationship with a man right after he'd somehow convinced Duncan and the twins that he wasn't homosexual (at least not literally, he doubted they would ever stop name-calling him such things), well, let's just say it would go even less smoothly than Arthur even dared to hope.

So it was Arthur who pulled away after indulging his want the slightest bit by kissing back. It hurt him to see the American so confused by the action, but he knew he had to do this.

"Sorry, Alfred. I…I can't do this right yet." Arthur got up nervously and feeling immensely awkward that Alfred wasn't saying anything. "A-Ah…thank you for lunch…um…I guess…I'll see you later…or not…uh…bye."

Silently, Alfred watched the Englishman take his awkward leave. With a smirk on his face, he just faced his TV and continued watching the movie before even entertaining the notion of going back to work.

If he didn't know better, he would think Arthur was playing hard to get…

"At least I got to kiss him this time," murmured Alfred, thinking bitterly about how his brother had sent Heracles to interrupt them. True, he supposed he deserved it because he most certainly had given Matt and Gilbert hell when they first got together, mostly at the request of his father, but then he'd seen how happy Matt was with Gilbert, and even though their relationship still kinda bothered him, he stopped messing with them on a large scale. (Much to the disappointment of Francis.)

Now he had to figure out how he would get alone with Arthur next because seeing how he left, he sure wasn't going to want to come back to Alfred's apartment. Plus, if Alfred guessed correctly as to why his little Artie left, it was because his siblings were coming to town soon-ish. Sue him; he was fuzzy on the details. He wasn't the one who'd bought the tickets, that'd been Enlai's job because according to Yao, his little brother apparently had some great connections with airlines, and rooming was Ludwig's problem. All Alfred had been entrusted with was getting Arthur and Peter to reunite.

Laughing softly to himself, Alfred grinned and murmured, "That just might work~."

Nothing can keep Alfred down; not even when his romantic interest seemingly rejects him. He would call it being in love; Gilbert would call it being a stalker. Alfred would retort: "At least I'm not a pedo."

Gilbert never won those arguments.

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A/N: It's been a while, and I'm just going to save myself the trouble of making excuses. I was lazy. 'nuff said. Therefore, I made this chapter extra long-ish for you guys. You're welcome.

Something I'd like reviewers to let me know is their opinion of how Arthur is acting. I'm writing these chapters after periods of not even looking at the story at all, so I'm worried that Arthur isn't being very consistent. I mean, I try to make his emotions make sense, but sometimes I think he escapes. Oh well. I wanted to brood over this chapter some more to make sure Arthur's emotions were all in check, but then I was tired of working on this chapter and wanted it posted.

Obviously I went with the latter.

I hope I confused you all a bit more as to who precisely is behind all of this~ Tis my intention~

Oh, right, and they kissed, but whatever, that's not what you guys care about, right? Right. I actually wanted to have a few more almost kiss, but then cockblocked moments, but then I just felt this moment was right for SingertoPotatoes' idea, so I went with it. I wasn't even sure I was going to use the Chinese food bit, but then it worked its way back in.

Also, the title is stolen from that one in Faith Hill's song "This Kiss". I felt like it suited the chapter well. Plus I like that song.

Peter's going to be in the story big time soon, so prepare yourselves.

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TRANSLATIONS:

_Arturo_ - Spanish/Italian for Arthur

_vin_ (French) - wine

_leche_ (Spanish) - milk

_bier_ (German) - beer (duh)

_schliefen zusammen_ (German) - slept together

_Je suis son pere._ (French) - I am his father.

_a tus amigos_ (Spanish) - your friends

_un Allemand_ (French) - a German

_Frau_ (German) - Mrs./Ms. (also woman and wife, but used as Ms.)_  
_

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Also, everyone keep in mind that after this Peter event is solved, this particular story will be over. HOWEVER, I will continue to wrtie fics in this AU because, well I like it a lot. There's so much I can do, and so many characters to explore in this AU. It'll be fun~!

So, for reviews: leave ideas for what kinds of things you want to see happen in the Tortuga AU and/or tell me who you think Javier is!

Freeze, out!


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